


Druid

by ItsMe_Basil



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek and Stiles were friends before the fire, Druid Stiles Stilinski, Jennifer Blake - Freeform, M/M, Magic, Magic Stiles Stilinski, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Past and Present, Slow Build, Stiles gets trapped in time, Stiles is Magic, Young Derek Hale, Young Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, alpha pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 35,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMe_Basil/pseuds/ItsMe_Basil
Summary: Stiles is a rare kind of druid; the kind you read about in folk lore. But Stiles can't control his abilities, so Alan Deaton takes the boy under his wing, thus introducing him to the Hale pack. Derek and Stiles have a connection, both of them not able to control the gifts they have, and that connection turns into more.When the Hale fire splits the two apart, Stiles does whatever he can to try and save the pack, but he's not strong enough.It's been 10 years, Stiles still has no way of getting back and has lost all hope of any survivors, when a group of teenagers trying to save a werecoyote unintentionally change him back.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 90
Kudos: 658





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting a lot of comments about the spacing in my stories. Unfortunately I can't get the space between my paragraphs. I've tried double spacing before I post, and I've tried going through my books to add the spacing later, and neither works!  
> I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

It was nearly dark out; the sounds of crickets, owls and coyotes filled the otherwise silent woods. A fox trotted through the brush, crunching leaves under its feet. Its nose was pressed to the earth, taking in the scents.

  
It froze at the sudden sound of a motorbike, dropping to its stomach and flattening its ears.

  
The squeak of metal against metal had the fox scurrying under the brush, tail bushy.

  
"Anyone else think we might be doing more harm than good?" Lydia asked, biting her lip as she stepped out of Issac's jeep. Scott pulled his helmet off, still straddling the motorbike.

  
"We're trying to keep a father from killing his own daughter," he reminded. Allison and Issac also got out of the jeep, slamming the doors shut.

  
"Actually, we're trying to keep a guy from killing a coyote who is actually his daughter, who we don't know how to change from a coyote back to his daughter," Issac corrected.

  
"And again with the not helping," Allison sighed, walking to the back of the jeep.

  
"Let's just find her first," Scott said. "Issac, you and Allison go to the crash site, see if you can't catch her scent. Lydia and I will try to steer her in that direction."

  
Everyone nodded and took off. Lydia got on the back of the motorbike, holding Scott tightly around the waste as they took off into the woods in the oposite direction of Allison and Issac.

  
They drove for a while, slowly making their way closer to the crash site when Scott stopped the bike.

  
"What is it?" Lydia asked, gripping Scott's jacket.

  
"She's here," Scott said, climbing off of the bike. Lydia almost topled to the ground when he let it go, not ready to hold the weight.

  
"Stay here," Scott demanded, sparing a glance her way before taking off in a sprint.

  
"Wait! Scott!"

  
But Scott was already gone. Lydia huffed, climbing off the bike and letting it lay on its side.

  
The sun was nearly gone, bringing in colder air. Lydia shivered, pulling her phone out to check the time. It was nearing 8 o'clock.  
She had just decided to leave the bike and walk back to the jeep when the sound of a howl made her freeze. It sent shivers up her spine and she rubbed her arms through the thin jacket she wore.

  
It had to be Scott, she thought. He started walking towards the howl, not liking being alone, when a noise caught her attention.  
"Hello?" She called, gripping her arms tightly. She stumbled back when something stumbled out from behind a large tree, or someone.  
The boy was naked and covered in dirt. Lydia's eyes widened in shock as she took a step back.

  
"How long has it been?" The boy rasped out, leaning against the tree for support.

  
"What?"

  
"Since the fire," the boy elaborated, looking a little woozy. "How long has it been since the Hale house caught fire."

  
Lydia blinked, taken aback. "Almost ten years," she answered.

  
The boy let out a gasp of a breath, tears welling in his eyes. He pushed himself from the tree, taking a couple staggering steps forward and dropping like a sack of rocks.  
Lydia ran over to him, dropping to his side and grabbing at his shoulder to help him back up.

  
"Did-did anyone-" the boy couldn't even form a complete sentence, his breathing coming out in short pants.

  
"Hey, calm down, its okay," Lydia hushed, pulling her coat off and dropping it over the boy's lower half. "Just take deep breaths."  
The boy did, gripping at his hair. Just then, Scott showed up.

  
"Who's this?" He asked, skidding to a halt. The boy looked up at Scott, then to Lydia.  
"He just, showed up," Lydia said with a shrug. She turned to look at the boy, but he was looking at Scott again.

  
"You're a werewolf." It wasn't stated as a question, which made Scott frown a bit. The boy didn't smell like a werewolf, or anything else he'd come across.

  
"How do you know that?" Scott demanded, getting a little defensive. Who knew what this kid wanted.

  
"I need to talk to your emissary," the boy said, ignoring Scott's question and standing to his feet. He kept the jacket secured around his middle.

  
"Emissary?"

  
"Yes," the boy snapped, still looking like he was ready to pass out. "The emissary to your pack, a druid."

  
Scott glanced to Lydia in confusion and the boy huffed, using the tree to hold himself up. He felt dizzy.

  
"Who's the alpha?" He asked. If these kids didnt know who the emissary was, the alpha would. "Just- just take me to the alpha."

  
With that, the boy promptly dropped to the ground again. Scott ran over to him, looking him over before looking up at Lydia with worry.

  
"What do we do?"

  
"I don't know!"

  
Scott huffed before lifting the boy into his arms. He turned to Lydia, nodding for her to walk back to the jeep.

  
"He asked about the Hale fire," Lydia said. "Before you got here, he asked how long ago the Hale fire was. Do you think he knew them?"

  
"Let's just take him home first. We'll call Derek and see if he knows him."

  
*-*

  
The boy didn't wake up until they reached Scott's house.

  
"Is this where the alpha is?" He asked, allowing Scott to help him out of the jeep.

  
"Its my house," Scott said, pulling the door open. When they called Derek to tell him someone was asking about the Hale house and emissaries, Derek had agreed to meet them at Scott's.

  
Scott took the boy to his room, gave him a pair of jersey shorts and a t-shirt that was a couple sizes too big.

  
"What happened?" Scott asked once the boy was settled on the edge of his bed.

  
He glanced up at Scott, biting at his lower lip and twiddling with his fingers before he decided to speak.

  
"Its a long story," the boy sighed. He glanced at Scott, then back to his hands. "I've been trapped in the body of a fox for a long time. You brought me back."

  
"But you don't smell like you're one of us," Scott commented with a frown. He could smell Malia was like them, a were. But this boy was human from what he could tell.

  
"That's because I'm not," the boy said with a shake of his head. "I'm a druid."

  
Scott was about to ask him more when he heard Derek's car pull up the drive.

  
"Give me a second," he said, stepping out of the room. He bounded down the stairs just as Derek walked through the front door.

  
"What?" Derek asked, looking off to the living room, looking for the mystery person. "Where is he?"

  
"My room," Scott supplied. Derek nodded, taking a step and stopping when Scott put a hand on his chest.

  
"He's looking for an emissary. What is an emissary?"

  
"They're druids," Derek said off handed. "They advise packs, keeps them close to humanity."

  
Derek brushed passed Scott, climbing the stairs. Scott followed close behind. When Derek reached the top of the stairs he froze momentarily, frowning at the strange yet familiar scent wafting from Scott's room before taking another step.

  
When he reached the doorway, all the air left Derek's lungs. He had to hold onto the doorframe to keep from falling over in shock.

  
"Stiles?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update! I made a cover for the book! Check it out [Here](https://super-wolf-sterek.tumblr.com/post/625827780716789760/show-chapter-archive)


	2. Chapter 2

10 years earlier

  
Stiles fingered the corner if the book he was supposed to be reading, the soft paper bending from the pressure of his index finger.

  
"Stiles."

  
He jumped and looked up at Deaton, who smiled humorously at the teenager. "We're here."

  
Stiles looked from Deaton to look out of the window, seeing trees. He glanced ahead to see a mansion of a house.

  
"Don't be nervous," Deaton said, stepping out of the car. Stiles took a breath and closed the book sitting on his lap. He set it down on the dashboard as he got out himself, looking up at the two story home.

  
Stiles had never seen a werewolf before, much less a whole pack. He had grown up rather secluded from anyone who wasn't a druid.

  
"Here, help me with these bags," Deaton called from the trunk. Stiles pulled his eyes from the house and walked to the trunk. He grabbed a bag and his pillow, stepping back as Deaton shut the back.  
He followed silently to the house, and swallowed thickly when the door opened before Deaton could reach the first step.

  
A woman stepped out, hair dark and long. She gave a friendly smile to Deaton, then turned to Stiles.

  
"You must be Stiles," she said, smiling at him. Stiles nodded nervously, stepping up to the porch.

  
"My name is Talia," she introduced. "Come, we have much to discuss, and you need to get settled."

  
When they entered the house, it wasn't what Stiles had pictured. The walls were red with a dark wood trim with pictures hanging. There was a carpet in the foyer and stairs leading up to the second floor. He heard laughter coming from a room to his right.

  
Talia took the two up the stairs. When they reached the top, she nodded to Deaton, who smiled in return and left for one of the bedrooms to the left. Stiles felt his palms get clammy.

  
Talia lead him down the opposite way, leading Stiles to the last door and giving it a soft knock.

  
Stiles gnawed at his inner cheek, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The door opened, revealing a boy around Stiles' age with dark hair and green eyes.

  
"This him?" The boy asked, hand still on the door knob as he looked up at Talia.

  
"Meet my son," Talia smiled, looking from the boy to Stiles. "Derek, this is Stiles."

  
Derek turned from Talia to Stiles, a sort of smirk on his face as he fully looked Stiles over.

  
"Come on in," he said finally. Stiles glanced at Talia before stepping inside the bedroom.

  
"When you've settled, I'd like to speak with you and Deaton," Talia spoke. Stiles gave a muted nod, hand gripping his pillow tightly.

  
Derek shut the door and turned to Stiles, who stood in the middle of the room looking lost.

  
"Your bed is there," Derek said, pointing to the spot behind Stiles. "There's extra blankets if you get cold."

  
Stiles turned to see the small twin bed pressed against the far wall. Someone had made it up, even supplying a pillow. A small desk separated the unused bed from the one Stiles assumed belonged to Derek; the blanket wrinkled and pillows bunched.

  
Stiles walked to the unused bed and set his duffle on top. Derek walked over to his bed, sitting and watching Stiles as he put his own pillow on the bed.

  
"You brought your own pillow?" Derek asked.

  
"I can't sleep without it," Stiles confessed, pushing the other pillow to the wall.

  
"How old are you?"

  
Stiles looked over at Derek, seeing the curiosity on his face. He wasn't asking because of the pillow, he was curious.

  
"Seventeen."

  
"Me too," Derek grinned. Stiles couldn't help but give a small smile in return.

  
Once Stiles was settled, Derek took him down to the first floor, leading Stiles to where Talia and Deaton were. The room was small with a desk and a wall of books. The drapes were drawn, leaving the room with the yellow glow of artificial light.

  
"Derek, I'd like you to stay," Talia called as Derek was leaving. Derek nodded, shutting the door behind him as he walked back inside. Stiles looked at Deaton expectantly, but the man was looking to Talia.

  
"Deaton told me about you, Stiles," Talia said softly. "You're a very gifted young man. Being a druid is rare, and special, but you're so much more."

  
Stiles felt his hands get clammy again. He heard this all before. Stiles was different. He wasn't like other druids. He could do things most druids hadn't been able to do since the dark ages.

  
"Deaton thought it wise to bring you here, not only to teach you how to use control your gifts, but to keep you safe as well."

  
"Keep me safe?" Stiles asked with a frown.

  
"Stiles," Deaton sighed. "There are many people who fear your gifts." Stiles wiped his hands on his thighs.

  
"I agreed to let you stay here," Talia smiled softly at Stiles, calming him a bit.

"I know the struggle of being different."  
Talia kept her dark eyes on Stiles for a moment before turning to Derek.

  
"Stiles is your responsibility, Derek," Talia said. "While he's at school, or not with Deaton or myself. He will need someone to watch over him."

  
Derek looked over at Stiles, taking in his pale skin, dark hair and thin physic. He turned back to Talia.

  
"I'll make sure nothing happens to him," he promised. Talia smiled with pride, nodding at the two teenage boys.

  
"You two may go now, I need to speak with Deaton privately." Stiles nodded and followed Derek out of the room. When the door was shut and they had walked a ways from the room, Derek stopped and turned to Stiles.

  
"What was my mother talking about?" He asked. "What makes you different from any other druid?"

  
Stiles shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to explain, or where to start.

  
"I'm not being trained to be an emissary," he started off slowly and softly. "I have abilities that emissaries don't have, but I can't control them yet."

  
Derek raised a single eyebrow, crossing his arms and silently waiting for him to elaborate.

  
"I'm an original druid," Stiles said, glancing around in case anyone overheard.

  
"What does that mean?" Derek asked -more like demanded.

  
"Its a long story."


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles hadn't gotten much sleep that night. He missed the familiarity of his own bed; the sounds of crickets used to comfort him, but here they kept him awake.

  
He tossed and turned as little as possible, not wanting to wake Derek up, but being a werewolf, the kid heard him anyway and turned on the small lamp beside the bed.

  
"Why are you awake?" He asked, voice groggy. Stiles turned his head to look at him.

  
"I didn't mean to wake you up," Stiles said apologetically.

  
"That's not what I asked," Derek said, sitting up now to look at Stiles. Stiles shrugged.

  
"Just not used to being here," Stiles confessed.

  
"My mother told me a little about you," Derek said, laying back down. He was turned to face Stiles' bed. Stiles rolled over as well, hugging the pillow under his head.

  
"Yeah?" Stiles asked. "What did she say?"

  
"That you're rare," Derek said with a half shrug. "And that there are people out there who don't want you alive."

  
A shiver rolled up Stiles' spine at the reminder. It hadn't even been a full 48 hours since Stiles woke up to someone trying to kill him.  
"That's why she agreed to let you stay," Derek continued. Stiles frowned in confusion, so Derek continued. "My mother has the ability to shift into a wolf."

  
Stiles blinked in shock. He knew werewolves could shift, but he never heard of one able to shift fully into a wolf.

  
"Can you?" Stiles asked.

  
Derek shook his head with a sigh. "I can barely control a normal shift."

  
Stiles pushed his pillow further under his head, wiggling a little to get comfortable.  
"I can't control my gifts yet, either."

  
Derek looked up at Stiles, a small smile on his lips. Stiles grinned back.

  
"You should go to sleep," Derek said, reaching for the lamp. "Its your first day of school tomorrow."

*-*

  
When Stiles woke up the following morning, Dwrek was gone, his bed half made. He climbed out of bed, not bothering to fix the sheets that had rolled to the side.

  
He changed into a flannel and jeans before making his way downstairs.

  
"He's alive," Deaton joked with a humorous grin. Stiles yawned as he entered the kitchen.

  
"How'd you sleep?" Deaton asked.

  
"Fine," Stiles said he sat down at the table across from Deaton, rubbing the left over sleep from his eyes.

  
"I can drop you off at the school when you've finished breakfast," Deaton suggested, arms folded and resting on the table.

  
"I'm not much of a breakfast person," Stiles said with a shake of his head. Deaton nodded, and the two of them headed for the car. Stiles figured Derek drove with someone else much earlier in the morning. It was almost noon.

  
When they reached the school, Deaton lead Stiles to the administration's office to get his papers. Deaton had called yesterday to enroll him during the eight hour drive to Beacon Hills.

  
"Ah, Mr. Me-meez-"

  
"I go by Stiles," Stiles offered. The woman smiled in thanks, writing that down above the name written in dark ink.

  
"Well then, Stiles," the woman handed over a stack of papers. "These are for you. You'll need to fill them out and return them, and you're schedule will be in there, as well as locker combination and a map of the school."

  
Stiles took the pages from her and nodded. Deaton took him to the side and the two filled out the paperwork. It was mostly medical and scholarly history. Deaton helped with some, like where he had gone to school previously, where he lived before moving here. That was all stuff Stiles couldn't really tell anyone; not when people were looking for him.

  
When the paperwork had been finished and turned in, Deaton left. Stiles stayed in the office for someone to shoe him to his first class of thr day.

  
"You must be Stilinski," a man spoke. Stiles looked up to see a thin man with dark hair swept back and thick rimmed glasses. He was tall. "My name is Mr. Harris."

  
"Uh, Stiles," Stiles greeted nervously. The man gave a small nod before leading the teenager out of the office.

  
"The students are at lunch now, so I'll take you to your classroom," Mr. Harris said evenly, his pace quick. Stiles had to jog just to keep up with him, and that was saying something; Stiles had long legs.  
"I'm sure you know where your locker is?" Mr. Harris spoke, stopping in front of a classroom door. Stiles nodded, even though he really didnt. The man made Stiles anxious. Maybe it was how serious he was, or how in a rush he seemed to be.

  
"Good. This is your classroom. Mrs. Brown is waiting for you." With that, Mr. Harris walked off, leaving Stiles standing in front of the door.

  
He opened it just as the bell rang, stepping inside.

  
"Um, Mrs. Brown?" The woman looked up from her desk. She was dark skinned with short curly hair and black eyes. She smiled at Stiles, standing up.  
"I'm Stiles, I transferred," he said, a bit awkwardly.

  
"Its nice to meet you, Stiles," Mrs. Brown said with a smile, reaching a hand out. Stiles took it, shaking it lightly. "Go ahead and find a seat, the rest of the class will be here in a couple minutes."  
Stiles nodded and walked down a row of desks. He sat down towards the back, closest to the windows. He didn't have a bag or any school supplies, so he tapped his fingers on the desk, his leg bouncing.

  
The bell rang a second time, the door to the classroom opening and a bunch of students walking in. The once silent classroom was loud with people finishing hallway conversations.  
Stiles kept his eyes to the desk, scratching at a piece of chipped varnish and waiting for class to begin.

  
"Hey, new kid, that's my desk." Stiles glanced up to see a rather tall and broad kid standing in front of him. He wore a scowl and looking at his hands, which were fisted at his sides, Stiles assumed he wasn't afraid of knocking teeth in.

  
He was just about to jump out of the seat when a hand dropped on his shoulder.

  
"Back off, Brody." Stiles turned to see Derek, an eyebrow raised in a challenge.

  
The kid scoffed, sending a threatening glare to Stiles that made the much smaller teenager shift in his seat before stalking off to another desk.  
Derek didn't take his hand off of Stiles' shoulder until the boy was seated.

  
"Thanks," Stiles said, turning to Derek. He only smirked and shrugged, dropping into the seat behind him.

  
"Alright class!" Mrs. Brown started once everyone was seated. "We have a new student joining us. His name is Stiles. Now, please open your books to page one hundred seventeen and begin reading where we left off yesterday."

  
Stiles looked around, seeing everyone opening books. Stiles hadn't been given any books yet. He assumed they would be in his locker, but he hadn't found it yet.  
There was a scraping noise behind him, and Stiles craned his neck to see Derek dragging his desk over to the side of Stiles. Everyone looked up at him, but Derek didn't seem to notice as he plopped back into the chair, this time right beside Stiles.

  
He grinned over at Stiles before dropping a textbook onto the place the desks met with a loud thud. Stiles jumped a bit, which only seemed to make Derek's smile widen.  
He dropped his eyes to the pages, flicking through the textbook until he reached the page and pointed to a paragraph halfway through the page.

  
"Thanks," Stiles said again, quietly. Derek nodded back to the book, so Stiles leaned in, beginning to read about the civil rights movement.


	4. Chapter 4

Present day

  
"Stiles?"

  
Derek nearly toppled over at the sight before him. When the teenager lifted his head to see who called him, it felt like someone took a sledgehammer to Derek's chest. Those dark brown eyes and pale skin so familiar.

  
The boy frowned, standing up to his full height. Derek remembered when he was the shorter of the two, but Stiles hadn't grown since then. He hadn't aged a day.

  
"Who are you?" Stiles asked. Derek had forgotten what Stiles sounded like.

  
"This is Derek," Scott introduced, stepping past Derek to get into the bedroom. "Derek Hale."

  
Stiles took a step back, looking from Scott to Derek and shaking his head, breath catching in his throat.

  
"No, its not," Stiles countered, glaring at Scott. "Derek died."

  
"Scott," Derek managed to say, clearing his throat. Scott turned to look at him. "Leave us alone for a minute."

  
Scott hesitated, glancing at Stiles before nodding and walking out. He shut the door behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone.

  
Stiles' body language told Derek he was defensive, so he stayed where he was.

  
"Stiles, it's me," Derek said softly. Stiles shook his head again.

  
"I wasn't in the fire," Derek continued, taking a small step forward. "Laura and I weren't in the house, please, Stiles, it's me."

  
Stiles blinked, dropping onto the bed and holding his head in his hands. "I don't believe you."

  
Derek took a couple more steps closer, reaching the end of the bed. He knelt down into a squat in front of Stiles, seeing his eyes pinched shut.

  
"Stiles, what happened?" Derek asked softly. "How are you still seventeen?"

  
Stiles opened his eyes, looking up at Derek from between his hands. He didn't say anything, his eyes taking in Derek's features.

  
Derek saw the recognition then. Stiles pulled his hands away from his head, moved to the edge of the bed and grabbed Derek's jaw.  
Derek let him, allowing Stiles to rotate his head from left to right, fingers tracing his hairline.

  
"You've changed," Stiles said finally.

  
"You haven't," Derek said, just as softly. Stiles removed his hands, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

  
"Side effects of using my gifts without knowing how," Stiles explained quietly. The two sat quietly together, Stiles looking at his hands, Derek not able to look anywhere but at Stiles.

  
Stiles face contorted into a grimace, tears welling in his eyes as he lifted his head to look at Derek.

  
"I thought you died in the fire," he cried. Derek dropped to his knees, grabbing Stiles' shoulder and pulling him close. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, burying his face into the crook of Derek's shoulder.

  
Derek could smell years of dirt, blood and urine on Stiles, on top of the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

  
Stiles was the first to pull back, wiping at his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

  
"What happened?" Derek tried. "Where have you been?"

  
Stiles' leg bounced and he was back to fidgeting with his fingers. Derek reached out and grabbed his hands, stilling the teenager.

  
"Tell me what happened," Derek demanded softly.

  
"I-I don't know," Stiles lied. "I remember the fire and shifting, and not being able to shift back."

  
Derek didn't push further, Stiles wondered if he knew he had lied, but Derek didn't seem to have.

  
"Let's get you cleaned up," Derek said after a moment. Stiles nodded mutely, allowing Derek to pull him to his feet.

  
Derek lead Stiles out of Scott's room and down the stairs.

  
"What's going on?" Scott asked when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

  
"I'm taking him to the loft," Derek stated matter-of-factly.

  
"Are you sure that's a good idea? We don't really know-" Scott started, only to be cut off.

  
"I know," he said. "I appreciate you calling me, but I can take care of him from here."

  
With that, Derek and Stiles walked out of the house.

  
"This is your car?" Stiles asked in surprise, looking at the black chevy sitting on the side of the road. Derek nodded, opening the passenger door. Stiles got in, taking in the interior as Derek rounded the car and got in himself.

  
He started the engine and took off down the road in silence.

  
They drove to the outskirts of town, to a building that looked abandoned.

  
"You live here?"

  
"Yeah," Derek said, taking Stiles up to the top floor. When they reached the heavy metal barn door, Derek stopped, pulling it open. Stiles stepped inside, the only light coming from the floor to ceiling window on the far wall.

  
Derek slammed the door shut and flicked on the light. It was a loft; the lower half bare save for a table in the middle and a sofa on the left and right wall.

  
A spiral stair case lead to what Stiles assumed was the bedroom.

  
There was a hole in the wall to the right, leading into another loft type room, though that one didn't look occupied.

  
Derek disappeared into a small room to the left, leaving Stiles in the main room. He looked around a little, the concrete floor cold on his bare feet.

  
He heard a shower turn on and made his way to the room Derek had gone. The bathroom was just as bare as the rest of the house. He had a toilet with a roll of toilet paper on the back and sink with a toothbrush and toothpaste. The shower had a see through cheap curtain, and one bottle of three-in-one shampoo.

  
Derek turned to look at Stiles, flicking water from his fingers.

  
"You can get cleaned up in here," he said. "I have some clothes you can wear when you're done."

  
Stiles only nodded. Derek stepped out of the bathroom without a word, leaving Stiles standing there, again.

  
He shut the door and pulled off his clothes before testing the water. It was too cold. Stiles turned the dial hotter before stepping inside.

  
The water burned at his skin, pelting him. He dropped his head, soaking his hair and watching as dirt and debris dirtied the bottom of the shower. He didn't realize he had started crying until he sniffled.

  
He wiped at his face, trying to pull himself together. His hands shook as he reached the for shampoo. He lathered it into his hair before scrubbing at his body.

  
He scratched at his arms and chest, trying to remove the dirt, tears mixing in with the water from the shower.

  
When he rinsed off, he shut off the water, but he didn't leave the shower. He stood there with his head bowed, shivering as the cool air dried his skin.

  
He didn't know how long he stood there before Derek knocked on the door.

  
He opened it slowly, stepping inside. Stiles wiped at the tears on his cheeks, taking deep shaky breaths.

  
"I got you a towel," Derek said. Stiles nodded, pulling the curtain back just enough to reach for the towel. He wrapped it around his waist before stepping out.

  
"Are you okay?" Derek asked. He knew the answer already. He'd heard him crying, and his eyes were still red.

  
Stiles just nodded, water dripping from his hair. Derek reached a hand up, grabbing Stiles' chin and angling his head to look up.

  
"You can talk to me," Derek said softly. Stiles swallowed, dropping his eyes. He couldn't talk to Derek. Derek had changed. He'd grown up, grown hard and closed off. And it was Stiles' fault.  
The Derek Stiles knew was dead, and Stiles didn't know which was worse; believing he had died in that fire, or knowing he didn't know who Derek was anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek had given Stiles his bed up in the loft that night. Stiles didn't know how to talk to him, or if he really wanted to. He had a million thoughts running through his head, and the guilt ate away at his stomach until he was sure he'd throw up.

  
So he stayed quiet when Derek spoke, which wasn't very often. He knew he shouldn't feel this way; it's been ten years, of course he's changed. Not only that but it was Stiles' fault he was like this now.

  
That only made Stiles feel worse. He should've tried harder.

  
He was laying in the full size bed, the blankets pooling around his torso as he stared up at the ceiling. He could hear the soft breaths of Derek on the couch below him and ran a hand through his hair.

  
After an hour, Stiles finally drifted off to sleep, body curled up under the thick blanket. He didn't dream, or he didn't remember dreaming. He woke up shivering. It was still dark and for a moment Stiles forgot where he was, forgot he was human again.

  
He reluctantly crawled out of bed in search of a spare blanket. He looked up in the loft first, checking under and around the bed before braving the metal spiral staircase.

  
The freezing metal bit at his feet. Stiles made it to the concrete floor, which wasn't any warmer, and moved to the couch to the left.

  
There was a small throw blanket half off the couch, and Stiles snagged it, draping it over his shoulder before looking for anything else.

  
"Stiles?"

  
Stiles jumped a bit, turning to see Derek on the other couch. He was sitting up and rubbing an eye with the palm of his hand. "What are you doing up?"

  
Stiles felt a pang of deja vu. He tapped at his thigh with two long fingers.

  
"I was cold," Stiles managed to say. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

  
Derek stood to his feet, walking over to his side of the loft. He reached for Stiles' wrist and frowned a bit.

  
"You're freezing," he corrected. Stiles bit his lip. He was, actually. He had a fur coat for 10 years; he had to get used to not having it now.

  
"I have some socks and a sweater upstairs," Derek said, stepping away from Stiles and heading for the stairs. Stiles followed.

  
It was warmer up in the loft, though not by much. Derek rifled through the drawers in the dark dresser, turning with a pair of socks and a sweater.

  
Stiles took them from him, sitting on the end of the bed and putting the socks on. They were too big, and so was the sweater. But it was warm so Stiles wasn't going to complain.

  
While Stiles had put on the sweater, Derek had taken the throw blanket and draped it over the bed, even going as far as to fold the quilt in half to give him more.

  
"Wont you get cold?" Stiles asked, suddenly realizing Derek hadn't been sleeping with a blanket.

  
"I don't get cold," Derek shrugged. Stiles nodded, suddenly feeling dumb for forgetting. "Get some sleep, Stiles."

  
Stiles looked up to see Derek was waiting at the side of the bed, holding the corner if the blankets up.

  
He shuffled to the bed and got in, Derek dropping the blankets once he was settled.

  
"Thanks," Stiles hummed, already feeling much warmer. Derek nodded before making his way back down the stairs. Stiles wanted to say more, to ask him questions, but that felt inappropriate under the circumstances. So instead, be curled under the blankets, snuggling into the pillow and letting out a long sigh.

  
*-*

  
Stiles didn't wake up until nine that morning. The sun was shining through the window, warming the bed where he laid. He didn't want to get out.

  
He almost stayed until he heard voiced talking quietly below him.

  
Stiles frowned and got out of bed. He was still wearing the sweater and one of his socks had fallen off while he slept. He stepped on the extra bit at his toes, pulling his foot out of the remaining sock before making his way down the spiral staircase.

  
"You're awake." Stiles glanced up to see Scott standing at the table beside Derek and another boy he had met last night.

  
"Derek was just filling us in on how you two knew each other," Scott said with a smile. Stiles glanced at Derek before turning his attention back to Scott.

  
"And I think there's someone who wants to see you," Scott said with a grin. Stiles frowned, turning to Derek for clarity.

  
"Who?"

  
None of them said who it was, but somehow Stiles found himself in that blue jeep again in a pair of oversized shoes, sitting next to Derek in the back seat.

  
They drove into town, crossing East Hill river and the college. They pulled into the vet clinic, making Stiles turn to Derek again, heartbeat spiking. The last time he had been to this clinic was when Derek had taken a wolfsbane bullet to the thigh.

  
Derek nodded in reassurance before stepping out of the jeep. The others had already gotten out and were waiting for Stiles. He took a breath and stepped out, following the three inside.

  
"Wait here," Scott said once they reached the lobby. Stiles stayed out, tapping at his thighs with his fingers.

  
A poster of the anatomy of a cat caught Stiles' attention, taking his mind off of the memory that surfaced, until a familiar voice pulled his attention elsewhere.

  
He turned just in time to see someone he never thought he would. Stiles gasped when Deaton walked out beside Scott.

  
"Stiles?" Deaton asked in confusion. Stiles nodded, stepping over to the small gate separating the lobby from the work rooms.

  
Deaton reached out for him, pulling Stiles into a firm hug. "I thought you died," he spoke, pulling away to look Stiles over.

  
"How is this possible?" Deaton asked, looking from Stiles to Derek, then to Scott, awaiting an answer.

  
"Its a long story," Stiles said softly, looking back to see Derek standing with his arms over his chest.

  
"Well then I'll clear my schedule."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little background on Stiles' powers! I know @CaptnSlash was curious!😘

10 years ago

  
Deaton had spent a couple hours a day working with Stiles on his abilities. Stiles wasn't the best at it, and 80% of the time nothing happened.

  
He had just finished training and was heading to the bedroom to rest. He wasn't expecting Derek to be there when he walked in.

  
"You look exhausted," Derek commented, looking up from the homework on his bed. Stiles nodded and flopped onto his bed.

  
"What all do you do with Deaton to make you so tired?" Derek asked, turning his body to face Stiles.

  
Stiles raised himself up into a seated position with a huff. Stiles had been here only a week, and Deaton had said to keep what they did a secret, but Stiles felt like he could trust Derek, so he slowly lifted his hand up, palm down and fingers outstretched.

  
It took a lot of concentration, made his hand shake. He closed his eyes and willed his ability to work. When he felt the pen touch the tip of his fingers he curled his hand around it and opened his eyes.

  
He held the pen that had been on Derek's bed up for Derek to see, though from the way he sat there with his mouth open, he had.

  
"Tada," he said in exhaustion. He tossed the pen back before laying back down.

  
"That's-" Stiles looked at Derek. It was the first time the teenage werewolf had been at a loss for words.

  
"You can't tell anyone," Stiles said. "If the wrong people found out-"

  
"I wont tell anyone," Derek said, shaking his head. Stiles gave a small half smile in thanks.

  
"What else can you do?" Derek asked, leaning forward a bit.

  
Stiles rolled to his side, wrapping his arms around the pillow under his head and chewing on his lip.

  
"Well, all druids can perform rituals," Stiles said. "And most can use glamouring."

  
"What's that?"

  
"Um, like, changing your face. I can do that, but after a couple hours it goes away. It takes a lot of concentration and power."

  
Derek nodded in understanding. When he didn't ask anything else, Stiles continued.

"I have telekinesis, and Deaton thinks if I practice that I might be able to move air," he said. Deaton said he might be able to use it as a forcefield of sorts.

  
"I can shapeshift and teleport too, but those ones are the hardest to do."

  
"Shapeshift? Like, into what?" Derek asked.

  
"So far I can shift into a crow, but the last time I did that I got stuck for three days," Stiles said with a frown.

  
Derek couldnt help but grin at that.

  
"No other druid I know can do that," he said. "I've met at least 5."

  
"Because they're modern druids. Like Deaton, he can do rituals, and he's got the emissary thing in the bag. I guess if they tried hard enough they could master glamouring, but not much else."

  
"So why can you do more?" Derek asked. His homework was long forgotten; this topic was much more interesting.

  
Stiles shrugged lazily, hauling himself into a sitting position.

  
"Back in the dark ages druids could do all that too," Stiles said, crossing his legs and letting his elbows rest on his knees. "Back then they performed ritual sacrifices to get their power and now that sacrificing is kind of taboo, that power has diminished significantly," Stiles explained.

  
"But just because we don't sacrifice for our power doesn't mean others don't, and that power is still in the air around us. Deaton thinks I'm just more sensitive or in tune with that power, which is why I can do more."

  
"So those stories about Lycaon and the druids are true?" Derek asked. Stiles nodded. "I thought it was just a myth."

  
"Every myth started out as truth," Stiles reminded.

  
Just then there was a knock at the door. Stiles felt his heart lodge itself in his throat, worried someone had overheard him.

  
"Come in," Derek called, turning back to his homework. The door opened, revealing Peter; Talia's kid brother.

  
"What's up?" Derek asked nonchalantly, twirling the pen between his fingers.

  
"Your mother wanted me to tell you that the packs are here," Peter said, eyeing Stiles. "She said the two of you had to leave."

  
Stiles frowned at that. Other packs were here? Derek closed his homework book and climbed out of bed.

  
"Did you two do something to upset another pack?" Peter pressed.

  
"Of course not," Derek snapped, nodding for Stiles to get out of bed.

  
"Then why does Talia want you both to go?"

  
"Because Ennis doesn't really like me, and Stiles is my responsibility," Derek lied. Stiles had gotten out of bed and was slipping into his shoes silently.

  
"So if I go, he goes too."

  
"Okay, fine," Peter backed off. Stiles had a feeling the guy didn't believe Derek, but he was grateful when Peter left the room.

  
"Why are we actually leaving?" Stiles asked softly. He straightened when he was finished tying his shoes.

  
"Because there are three packs out there that have no idea you're here, and the less people who know about you the better," Derek said, grabbing Stiles' wrist and rushing out of the bedroom.

  
The two bounded down the stairs, but stopped short when someone opened the front door.

  
Stiles gripped at the sleeve of Derek's shirt, Derek still holding his wrist.

  
"Hello, Derek," the wolf grinned. "Who's your friend?"

  
"Stiles," Derek answered a bit unsure. "We're lab partners at school."

  
The man turned to look at Stiles, and Stiles wanted to run and hide.

  
"Its nice to meet you, Stiles," the man said, holding out a hand. "My name is Deucalion."

  
Stiles shook his hand, giving a tight lipped smile. "I've known the Hale family for a long time; well before Derek was born."

  
"Oh, that's cool," Stiles said lamely, too anxious to know what else to say.

  
"We actually have to go," Derek said, saving Stiles from any more stress. "Our project is fue in a couple of days and we're running behind."

  
"By all means, go," Deucalion said, stepping aside. "I've got something I need to do as well. It was nice meeting you, Stiles."

  
Derek wasted no time in dragging Stiles to the door.

  
"Uh, yeah, you too," Stiles managed to get out before the two were outside. Derek didn't let go of his wrist until they reached the tree line.

  
"I know a spot we can go to," Derek said softly. Stiles nodded, following Derek deep into the preserve. "No one will follow us there."


	7. Chapter 7

Derek and Stiles had been walking for a little over 2 miles; both talking about unimportant things like school and the game that week.

  
Derek was used to the terrain, having walked this route many times before. Stiles on the other hand, was having a little more trouble. He was tripping over roots, stepping in holes. He even rolled his ankle.

  
It still smarted, but Stiles kept up with Derek as he rambled on about the team captain, who in Derek's opinion was an asshole with a major complex.

  
"We're here," Derek said suddenly. Stiles let out a huff in relief, slowing down as Derek jogged ahead.

  
Derek reached down, pulling open a pair of root cellar doors hidden amongst the leaves and dirt and looked up to Stiles.

  
"Come on, then," Derek said, nodding to the stairs. Stiles walked over to where Derek stood and looked into the dark hole.

  
"You sure it's safe down there?" Stiles asked, glancing up at Derek.

  
"I come here all the time," Derek assured. Stiles sighed and walked down the stairs. He could barely see anything down there, and when Derek shut the door behind them, Stiles couldn't see anything.

  
"I can't see," Stiles huffed, not moving from his spot. He didn't want to trip over anything or run into a wall.

  
"I can," Derek said. Stiles could hear the smirk in his voice and rolled his eyes.

  
"I'm well aware of your superior werewolf senses," Stiles said. "Now is there a light?"

  
"We're in a root cellar," Derek deadpanned.

  
"I know that," Stiles huffed, reaching out a hand. He managed to grab onto something. "What is this? What am I touching?"

"Relax, Stiles, it's just a tree," Derek laughed.

  
"You're enjoying this way too much, Derek," Stiles frowned, making Derek laugh again. "Why don't we go somewhere where I can actually see."

  
"Hold on," Derek said, huffing a laugh as he moved through the dark cellar.

  
Stiles didn't have to wait long before Derek lit a match, illuminating about a foot around him. He set the match to a kerosene lamp, waiting for the whick to catch before blowing out the match.

  
Now the cellar was flooded with a soft flickering light. Stiles glanced around at the cellar. It was bare, a few old shelves, a couple broken jars, and the roots of a tree. Stiles frowned, taking a step back and taking in the roots.

  
"What?" Derek asked, setting the lamp down on the floor.

  
"That's a five-fold knot," Stiles said, looking at the carved symbol in the root. "Its Celtic."

  
"Its been there forever," Derek said with a shrug. "Is it important?"

  
Stiles ran a finger over the symbol, tracing the outside. A dull vibrating surge shot through his finger, making his frown deepen.

  
"This is a Nemeton," Stiles said in realization. He looked around the room again, this time in amazement.

  
"A what?" Derek asked.

  
"Its a sacred place," Stiles explained. "The five-fold knot marks this place as a place of power. Druids performed sacrifices here, to give power to the Nemeton."

  
Derek looked around the cellar with new eyes, a shiver running down his spine. "That's a little creepy," he commented.

  
Stiles nodded, looking back at the symbol.

  
"What does the symbol mean?" Derek asked, noticing how interested Stiles had become.

  
"Well, the knot represents balance in nature," Stiles began. He ran his fingers over the four outer knots, feeling that vibration again.

  
"The outer knots each mean something different. Numbers, cardinal directions, seasons and classical elements," Stiles explained. "The middle knot represents the fifth element."

  
"Whoa," Derek let out. "I just thought it was an old root cellar."

  
"It is now," Stiles said. "There hasn't been power here in a long time."

  
There was a beat of silence before Derek spoke again.

  
"Is that the same symbol you have tattooed on your side?"

  
Stiles' hand subconsciously moved to his left side. He teared his eyes from the tree to Derek with a small frown.

  
"I've only seen glimpses of it," Derek added with a shrug.

  
Stiles had gotten the five-fold knot tattooed after finding out what he could do. It was a way he could feel closer to the druids of the past. It was a modern version, with four rings all connected by a fifth ring in the middle.

  
"Yeah, it is," Stiles confirmed. He lifted his shirt up, turning so Derek could see the symbol tattooed on his ribcage.

  
Derek stepped closer, taking the tattoo in. He'd only seen it briefly when Stiles changed his shirt.

  
Derek leaned back and Stiles let his shirt drop.

  
"Can I ask you something?" Stiles asked after the two had settled onto the floor.

  
"You just did," Derek said with a grin. Stiles rolled his eyes.

  
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

  
"I know," Derek said, still grinning. "Is that what you wanted to ask me?"

  
"No," Stiles said, huffing out a laugh. "I was just curious about something."

  
"What?"

  
Stiles sighed, picking at the fraying fabric of his jeans. "Who's that girl I see you with at school?"

  
"You mean Paige?" Derek asked. Stiles only nodded. "She's a friend. I've known her since freshman year. Why?"

  
"No reason," Stiles said, shaking his head and shrugging. "I was just curious."

  
Derek raised a challenging eyebrow, the left side of his mouth twitching up in a smirk.

  
"What?" Stiles asked, leaning back a bit. That only made the smirk grow, and Derek looked Stiles up and down, which only put Stiles even more on edge. "What?"

  
"You're very anxious, you know that?" Derek asked instead.

  
"No I'm not," Stiles defended, bristling at the spot on observation.

  
"I can smell it on you, Stiles," Derek said, openly grinning now. "I don't think I've smelled anything but anxiety on you since I met you."

  
"You can smell my anxiety?" Stiles asked, eyes widening in borderline horror. Derek was getting a kick out of this, which only made it worse for Stiles.

  
"They're chemosignals," Derek explained. "I can smell them on you the way you can smell perfume on others."

  
"Can everybody?"

  
"If you're asking if all the werewolves you've met can smell the anxiety rolling off you in waves, the answer is yes," Derek said, grinning widely when Stiles dropped his head in his hands in embarrassment.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen it yet, I just posted a trailer to this book on YouTube! You can find a link to it on my Tumblr @super-wolf-sterek!

The packs stayed longer than Stiles and Derek had thought. It made keeping out of site quite difficult for Stiles. Most of the Hale pack had gotten used to Stiles, but only Talia and Deaton knew why he was here. Of course Derek knew too, but the other two didn't know he knew. Stiles wanted to keep it that way.

  
Stiles met Paige at school finally. She was sweet, with long dark hair and big eyes. She had a mole under her eye that made her look even more beautiful.

  
Stiles could tell the way the two were together that they were more than friends, and Stiles wondered why Derek had said otherwise.

  
It wasn't until Peter showed up at school one day that Stiles realized. Paige was human, and Peter seemed to not like that idea.

  
Stiles was pretty intuitive; he could sniff out most people's intentions much quicker than others. But it was hard to tell what Peter wanted. He was good at pretending to have Derek's best interests at heart.

  
And if Derek was keeping Paige a secret, he must think something too.

  
Derek seemed more open about his relationship with Paige now that Stiles knew, and Stiles didn't know why, but it hurt a bit. He assumed it had something to do with the fact that Derek had lied. But he didn't think that was it.

  
"He keeps suggesting that I turn her," Derek sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. Stiles frowned at that.

"Why?"

  
"I don't know. He keeps telling me I have to tell her before she finds out, and then he turns and says it's better to give her the bite."

  
"Just ignore him," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "He's got his own shit to deal with right now."

  
Derek looked up at that, frowning in confusion. "What shit?"

  
"You didn't hear?" Stiles asked in surprise. "Peter got some werecoyote pregnant. I guess Talia wasn't too happy about it, they got into it a couple nights ago."

  
"Why would Peter having a baby make my mom mad?" Derek asked, completely forgetting about Paige now that new information was on the table.

  
Stiles only shrugged. "Don't know. She was just really mad when she found out. Almost broke his face."

  
Derek smirked at that. Peter had a thing about his face. He thought he was the most beautiful person alive. And dont get Stiles wrong, he was attractive -hell the whole Hale family was- but he wasn't that good looking. It was more arrogance if anything.

  
Stiles and Derek forgot about Peter until 3 days later. Stiles was meeting Derek at the school after practice to walk with him home. It was dark out; practice ran longer that day, and Stiles was just reaching the school when he saw Ennis enter.

  
At first he thought maybe Ennis was looking for one of his betas who was on the team, but when Stiles entered the school, he heard screaming.

  
"Derek?" Stiles called, sprinting down the hallway. He followed the growling and the pained shouts down three hallways before he reached the stairway.

  
The sight before him made him skid to a halt.

  
Ennis was there, crouched low and holding Derek to the floor by his head. Paige was on the steps, her side bloody and breathing quick.

  
Stiles set his jaw and ran after Ennis, ramming a shoulder into his back and pushing him off of Derek.

  
Stiles struggled to get himself up fast, worried Ennis would kill him if he didn't.

  
Derek ran for Paige, cradling her in his arms as Ennis turned to growl lowly at Stiles.

  
His eyes looked behind Stiles to Paige and Derek, and Stiles frowned when that offensive stance loosened and his eyes went from red to brown.  
Stiles kept his guard up, standing in front of Paige and Derek, as if his skinny frame could keep them safe against another attack from Ennis.

  
But Ennis turned around and walked off. Stiles turned and fell onto his knees in front of Derek and Paige.

  
"Is she okay?" Stiles asked, eyes wide at the sight of all the blood. Paige let out a painful whine and Derek held her a little tighter.

  
"We have to go," Stiles said, getting to his feet. "We have to go before he comes back."

  
Derek nodded, sniffling and schooling his emotions.

  
"Can you walk?" Derek asked softly. Paige nodded weakly and the two stood.

  
"Where are we going to go?" Derek asked, looking up at Stiles in worry.

  
Stiles moved to the other side of Paige, holding her elbow and supporting some of her weight.

  
"The root cellar," Stiles suggested. It was the only place no one knew about. They could move her there to keep anyone from finding her and to keep an eye on her.

  
The walk from the high school to the root cellar was long and painful- especially for Paige. Derek talked to her softly, repeatedly telling her it would be alright and that he was sorry.

  
Stiles had never seen what happened to a human after they were bitten by a werewolf, so he didn't know if this was a normal reaction, but Paige was loosing a lot of blood.

  
They were almost there when Paige nearly collapsed. Stiles dropped to his knee with her, keeping her from falling into the dirt. Derek lifted her back up.

  
"Derek," Stiles gasped out, his hand covered in blood as he stood up. "Derek there's a lot of blood."

  
"Just keep going," Derek growled out. Stiles could tell he was freaking out; could see how his hands shook while he held Paige, how his breathing came out in panty huffs to keep his emotions at bay.

  
They reached the cellar and Stiles dropped to the ground, flinging the doors open and reaching up for Paige. Together they got Paige down the stairs and into the cellar.

  
She hadn't said much the whole time. Didn't really ask about what Derek or Ennis were.

  
Stiles turned on the kerosene lamp as Derek settled onto the ground with Paige in his lap.

  
"Derek," Stiles breathed in shock. With the light, Stiles could see black blood oozing from the wound on her side. There was blood caked to her lips. She didn't look like she was going to make it.

"She's rejecting the bite," Derek realized in horror. He gripped her tightly, looking up at Stiles with pleading eyes.

  
"What does that mean?" Stiles asked, freaking out.

  
"She's dying."

  
Stiles' hands shook and he fell back onto his ass in the dirt. Paige let out another painful cry, sending shivers up Stiles' spine.

  
"We have to get help," Stiles said, getting to his feet. "She needs help."

  
All Derek could do was nod. Stiles took off out of the cellar, running through the woods towards the Hale house.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles ran the entire way back to the Hale house. He slammed into the door, nearly falling onto the floor.

  
"Talia!" He shouted, hands shaking as he looked around the foyer. "Talia!"

  
Talia walked in from the office behind the stairs. She looked concerned.

  
"Something happened," Stiles gasped out, glancing behind him. "We need help."

  
Stiles ran after Talia to the root cellar. After explaining what had happened, Talia had shifted into a black wolf and took off towards the root cellar. Stiles ran on foot.

  
He was a mile out when a wave of power slammed into him, knocking him off his feet. His eyes widened as he stood up, running again.

  
He felt the power and knew what happened. Paige had died.

  
When he reached the cellar, Talia was already there.

  
"My eyes are different," Derek said softly. Stiles stayed where he was at the bottom of the stairs. Paige was still in his arms, but Stiles knew she wasn't breathing.

  
He watched Talia reach for Derek's chin, but Derek refused to look up or open his eyes.

  
Stiles chewed on his inner cheek. He knew Derek's eyes wouldn't be yellow anymore, and he suddenly felt rage towards Ennis, and Peter.

  
"Different, but still beautiful," Talia said softly. She was always so calm; Stiles didnt know how she did it.

  
"Just like the rest of you."

  
At this, Derek finally opened his eyes, the bright blue recognizable even from where Stiles stood.

  
*-*

  
When the three reached the house again, Talia took Stiles aside, letting Derek go to his room.

  
"Tell me everything that happened," Talia demanded, one hand on Stiles' arm.

  
"It was Ennis," Stiles said softly. "Ennis attacked her in the school."

  
Talia sighed, letting Stiles' arm go. "Are you sure?" She asked.

  
Stiles nodded. "I saw him. He bit Paige."

  
Stiles picked at the skin around his nails and glancing around for Peter. He looked back up at Talia and huffed.

  
"I think Peter put him up to it."

  
"What do you mean?" Talia asked.

  
"Derek was telling me that Peter kept trying to get him to agree to change her," Stiles explained. "He said she would find out about Derek eventually, and that biting her would get it out of the way."

  
Talia frowned in thought. "Its not a coincidence Peter said all that and then days later Paige is bit by an alpha."

  
Talia glanced at Stiles and nodded, still thinking. Stiles stood there, anxiously awaiting her response.

  
Finally, she lifted her head and that calm and determined look was back.

  
"Go to your room. I'll have a word with Peter and Ennis."

  
Stiles nodded and rushed upstairs.

  
When he reached the bedroom, Stiles froze. Derek was on the floor. The bookshelf by the door was tipped over, posters on the walls were shredded and the lamp that sat on the table next to Derek's bed was laying broken on the other side of the room.

  
Stiles took a cautious step inside, thankful he hadn't taken his shoes off.

  
"Derek?" He called softly. Derek's head was in his hands, the dried blood a contrast to his skin.

  
He was crying. Stiles closed the door behind him before walking to kneel in front of him.

  
"Derek, are you okay?" Stiles asked, reaching a hand out to touch his elbow.

  
"Go away," Derek growled out, pulling away from Stiles' hand. The growl was guttural, filled with pain. It sent a shiver up Stiles' spine.

  
"Derek, I'm sorry," Stiles tried, sitting down fully. Derek sucked in a sharp breath, letting out another grunting growl.

  
"I said go away," he growled out. Stiles' eyes widened when he realized Derek was losing control. He moved back a little, seeing the claws elongating.

  
"Derek, you gotta calm down," Stiles said, getting nervous. Derek lifted his head from his hands, looking up at Stiles. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his eyes a bright florescent blue. His fangs poked through his lips.

  
"I can't," he said through clenched teeth. Stiles scurried to his feet, stepping back. "Leave, Stiles."

  
Before Stiles knew what to do, Derek was on his feet, stalking towards Stiles with a primal look to his sad eyes.

  
"Wait, wait, Derek, stop!" Stiles backed up to the door, swinging it open and stepping out. Derek came forward and Stiles hit the hallway wall.

  
Derek let out a low growl that cut through Stiles' bones. Stiles' eyes widened when Derek came for him fast, and he raised his arms, ready to push the teenager away.

  
Derek flew back into the room, hitting the wall with a grunt; but Stiles hadn't touched him. He gasped, dropping his hands. Derek coughed, rolling to his side.

  
Movement caught Stiles' attention just as he was about to run back to Derek. He glanced down the hall, just catching the face of Deucalion before he disappeared behind the door.

  
Stiles gritted his teeth before turning his attention to Derek, who was picking himself up off the floor.

  
"Are you okay?" Stiles asked, grabbing Derek by the shoulder to help stand him up.

  
"I'm fine," Derek said. "What was that?"

  
"I don't know," Stiles said truthfully. "I think I threw you across the room."

  
"With your telekinesis?" Derek asked, sitting down on the chair by his desk.

  
"Maybe," Stiles sighed. He dropped onto the bed, tapping his fingers against his thigh. "Are you okay?"

  
This time, Stiles asked it softer. Derek looked up at him before dropping his eyes to the floor.

  
"Not really," he said, picking at the fabric of his jeans. "Sorry for trying to kill you," he added.

  
Stiles smiled sadly. "Don't worry about it," he said with a small shrug. "Its not the first time someone's tried to kill me. I don't think it'll be the last."

  
Derek sighed heavily before standing up and walking to the busted lamp.

  
Stiles stood as well, walking over and helping pick up the pieces. "You don't have to, it's my fault," Derek said, shaking his head.

  
Stiles continued to pick up the shards of glass and ceramic. "It's okay," Stiles said. "I want to help."


	10. Chapter 10

Present.

  
Deaton flashed a light in Stiles' eyes. He had taken his blood pressure, done every test he could think of. Derek and Scott waited patiently, quietly.

  
"From what I can tell," Deaton finally said, breaking the silence. "You're still seventeen."

  
"How though?" Stiles asked. "I was seventeen for ten years? Am I gonna stay seventeen?"

  
"That, I'm not sure," Deaton said. Stiles sighed, shoulders dropping.

  
"Is there any way to test it?" Scott asked. Stiles looked up to Deaton hopeful.

  
"I'm afraid not," Deaton shook his head. "The only way to know for sure is to wait. Sooner or later we'll know if he's aging normally now."

  
"But that could take years to physically show any sign of aging!" Stiles gaped.

  
Deaton nodded. "I'm sorry, Stiles. I wish I could help. I barely understood your gifts 10 years ago."

  
"So we just wait?" Derek asked with a huff. "What do we do in the mean time?"

  
"I suggest you finish your junior year of high school," Deaton said, looking back at Stiles.

  
"What?" Stiles sputtered. "School? That's a little low on the priorities list dont you think?"

  
"No, Deaton's right," Scott said. Stiles and Derek gave him a look. "Until we can figure out what happened, he should blend in. I can look out for him during the day."

  
"What about Harris?" Derek countered. Stiles furrowed his brows. He hopped off the table.

  
"Harris?" Stiles asked. "As in Mr. Harris, our Chemistry teacher?"

  
"You know Mr. Harris?" Scott asked in surprise.

  
"Yeah," Stiles huffed. "Derek and I had him for Chemistry when we were in high school. I can't go to school if he's still there, he'll recognize me."

  
"Not necessarily," Derek said, butting in with a frown. Stiles looked up at him with a frown. "Harris knows you by your first name. If we register you by Stiles, we could get away with you being a younger brother."

  
"This is stupid," Stiles huffed. "Harris knew my first name but everyone called me Stiles. How is Harris not going to know if I walk into school with the same face and the same name ten years later?"

  
"He's got a point," Scott grimaced, looking at Derek.

  
"I might have an idea," Deaton said. The three looked over at him expectantly.

  
"You can use a glamour," he said.

  
"I can't hold a glamour for more than a couple hours," Stiles reminded. "And I haven't tried it in ten years."

  
"Then it looks like you're going to have to practice."

  
"Or I could just skip the whole school thing."

  
*-*

  
By the end of the week, Stiles was enrolled in Beacon Hills high school again. Derek had taken him out to get clothes, school supplies and shoes. He had cleared out a couple drawers for Stiles, and was talking about getting another mattress.

  
He drove Stiles to the school on his first day, and Stiles really wished he didn't have to go. He felt like there was something more important than school. Like what happened was more important.

Figuring out his powers were more important.

  
"Scott said he would bring you back to the loft when school finished," Derek said, car parked in front of the school. "Do you have a handle on the glamouring?"

  
"Yeah, I can do it long enough to get through Chemistry," Stiles sighed. It was the best he could do. Glamouring took a lot out of him, as did everything he tried to do.

  
"That's all you need," Derek assured him. Stiles looked up at him, his green eyes so familiar. He gave a small nod and got out of the car.

  
The walk to the double doors was one he remembered well. Inside looked the same; the lockers, the floors and walls. It brought Stiles back to a time when he was actually seventeen. When Derek was seventeen.

  
"Stiles, you made it."

  
Stiles looked up to see Scott walking towards him with a smile. Stiles gave a courtesy smile in return. "Come on, I'll show you to your locker."

  
Stiles followed Scott through the crowded hallway. They stopped just outside of the history classroom, and Scott nodded to one of the lockers.

  
"This one is yours," he said. "I put all the textbooks you'd need in it, and I also made sure we had as many classes together as possible."

  
"Thanks," Stiles said, opening the locker to see the textbooks stacked neatly inside.

  
"You're here."

  
Stiles looked to the side of Scott to see the red headed girl he had met in the woods not that long ago.

  
"And fully clothed," Stiles said, turning to face her fully. She smiled at that.

  
"I'm Lydia," she smiled. "Friend of Scott's."

  
"I'm Stiles," Stiles smiled back.

  
"Friend of Derek's," Scott filled in.

  
"You're a banshee?" Stiles asked. Derek had filled him in on almost everything, but he wasn't the best at explaining things.

  
"Yep," she said. The bell rang, signaling first period. Lydia linked arms with Stiles, pulling him from his locker. "What period do you have first?"

  
"Um," Stiles fished into his pocket for the paper with his class schedule on it. "English."

*-*

  
Stiles went through the first half of the day without a hitch. During lunch, Scott found him and brought him to a table out on the quad.

  
There were others there, others from the night he changed back.

  
He sat down next to Lydia.

  
"Everyone, this is Stiles," Scott introduced, sitting across from him. "This is Allison and Isaac."

  
"Werewolf and hunter," Stiles named, pointing to the two.

  
"And what are you?" Allison asked, leaning forward to look at him. She was pretty. Dark hair, fair skin and a jawline that outshined even Derek's.

  
"He's a druid," Lydia supplied. Stiles frowned, looking at her in confusion.

  
"How'd you know?"

  
"So you're like Deaton?" Isaac asked before Lydia could come up with a response.

  
Stiles shook his head, looking at Isaac. "No, I'm not an emissary."

  
"Derek said he was stronger," Scott said. "You can shapeshift and use glamour, right?"

  
"Yeah, among other things," Stiles nodded. "Did Derek tell you all this?"

  
"Yeah," Lydia said. "He told us you were important to a lot of people."

  
"I wouldn't say important," Stiles huffed.


	11. Chapter 11

After lunch, Stiles had a class with Isaac and Scott. The two sat beside him in econ, one on either side.

  
He was in the middle of writing down notes on demand theory and estimation when a wave of power hit him in the chest. His pencil dropped to the floor and he had to hold onto the desk to keep from flying back out of it.

  
"Stiles?" Scott whispered, leaning over. Stiles gasped out, feeling that dull vibration of electricity coursing through his body in pulsing waves.

  
"Somethings wrong," Stiles gasped out.

  
*-*

  
Scott and Isaac followed Stiles out of class. Stiles didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to go.

  
He turned the corner, running right into Allison.

  
"Allison? What are you guys doing here?" Scott asked, surprised when Lydia rounded the corner, looking just as distraught as Stiles.

  
"Somethings happening," Lydia said. "Someone's dying."

  
"They're already dead," Stiles corrected.

  
"What? Wait how do you know? Stiles wait!" Scott called. Stiles was already slamming into the double doors.

  
Scott grabbed ahold of him, stopping him before he could get to the stairs. The others had followed him out.

  
"How do you know they're dead?" Scott demanded.

  
"Because I felt it," Stiles said. "I felt the power."

  
"What are you talking about?" Isaac asked.

  
"Its complicated," Stiles huffed, grabbing the cellphone out of his pocket. Derek had given it to him. It was an old phone.

  
"Who are you calling?"

  
"Derek."

  
*-*

  
The teens didnt have to wait long before Derek pulled up. Stiles jumped in the passenger seat, Lydia and Scott jumping in the back. Allison and Isaac stayed, but demanded updates.

  
The four drove off of school property, Stiles' leg bouncing.

  
"What happened?"

  
"Theres another druid," Stiles said. "We have to go to the nemeton, right now."

  
"The what?" Scott asked in confusion.

  
"Its a place of worship," Derek said briefly. "Druids used it for sacrificing, it's where they draw their power."

  
He turned to Stiles. "But Talia took that from us, remember? We can't find it."

  
"What? Took what from you?" Lydia asked.

  
"The memory of the nemeton," Derek said. "She took the memory of where it is so we wouldn't go back."

  
"But she didn't take mine," Stiles said. Derek looked at him in confusion. He had seen her do it.

  
"She tried, but it was after Paige," he explained. "It didn't work on me because the nemeton had power."

  
"I'm confused," Scott said, shaking his head. "What?"

  
"Just, go to the preserve," Stiles told Derek. He nodded and sped up. Stiles turned back to Scott and Lydia.

  
"Druids draw their power from the nemeton, but in order to get that power, the nemeton needs a sacrifice. The nemeton hadnt had power in centuries until 10 years ago. In order to protect the pack and the people of Beacon Hills she took the memory of its location from Peter and Derek, but not me, I was too strong. It's been ten years since then."

  
"Until today," Lydia said. "I saw someone die." Derek had mentioned she was a banshee.

  
"You felt them die, I felt their power from the nemeton," Stiles said. They reached the preserve. Derek had been listening quietly the whole time.

  
"Someone wants to give the nemeton power," Derek said finally.

  
Stiles directed Derek where to go, remembering perfectly where the nemeton was. He felt the pull; that dull vibration getting stronger the closer they got.

  
"Stop!"

  
Derek slammed on the breaks, sending everyone forward. Stiles jumped out of the car and ran off.

  
"Stiles, wait!" Derek snapped, chasing after him. He skidded to a halt in front of the nemeton, out of breath. The other three caught up with him, all looking at the trunk with wide eyes.

  
"Where's the body?" Scott asked. Stiles stepped up to the nemeton, reaching a hand out and touching the dark stain on the wood. His hands came back bloody and he staggered back. Derek reached a hand out, touching his back to keep him from backing up any further, a frown on his face as he looked at the blood coating Stiles' first two fingers.

  
"Use your other senses," Derek said to Scott. Lydia looked frightened and Stiles wondered if she could tell.

  
He watched as she turned her head slowly to the right, taking a small step in that direction before Scott spoke up.

  
"More blood coming from over there," he said, pointing in the same direction. The four of them made their way to the right of the nemeton, Stiles following Scott and Derek.

  
"Oh my God," Lydia gasped out.

  
The body was tied to a tree. It was a girl, her hair dark and caked in dirt and blood.

  
Stiles stepped close, already knowing what he would see.

  
"What is it?" Derek asked, keeping his distance with the other two.

  
"Threefold death," Stiles said, stepping back.

  
"What does that mean?" Scott asked.

  
"Blow to the head, cut throat and strangulation," Stiles explained, counting them off on his fingers. "Its an ancient ritual."

  
"Stiles, you gotta give us more than that," Derek said.

  
"Its used for dark intent," he said.

  
"So we're dealing with an evil druid?" Lydia asked, glancing around her as if just saying it would make whoever it was show up.

  
"No," Stiles said shaking his head. "Druids are philosophers, not killers."

  
"So what are we dealing with?" Derek asked.

  
"A dark druid," Stiles said. Scott and Lydia looked confused. "Whoever killed this person is a Darach."

  
Derek knew what that was, and his shoulders tensed, his features hardening.

  
"So not only are we fighting an alpha pack, we also have to deal with a dark druid?"

  
It was Stiles' turn to look shocked. "Alpha pack?"

  
Derek nodded, glancing at Scott before speaking.

  
"Its a pack of alphas," he said. "And its run by Deucalion."


	12. Chapter 12

10 years ago

  
It had been a week since Paige's death. Talia had demanded all packs on her territory to leave in response to the attack. Stiles made it a point to tell her Ennis had done it. Ennis was an alpha, so Talia had to go about getting justice for the girl differently than she would it if had been a beta who had attacked a human.

  
Talia also took an extra precaution and took the memory of the nemeton's location from Peter, Derek and Stiles.

  
At first, it had worked on Stiles; but the low vibration of power coursing through his core, connecting him to the one alive nemeton kept him in tune with where it was.

  
Derek had taken to sleeping with the light on in that week; nightmares had kept him from sleep when it was dark. Stiles didn't mind the light, and on most occasions he even got up with Derek to comfort the wolf.

  
Stiles was just rolling over when he heard the telling whines coming from the other side of the room. Stiles blinked his eyes open, kicking his legs out from under the blankets and shuffling to the other bed.

  
He was just in his boxers -the warm night air of summer making it hard to sleep.

  
He sat on the bed, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder and giving it a soft shake.

  
"Der, wake up," he yawned. Derek's eyebrows furrowed, claws ripping at the sheets around his torso. Stiles shook him again, this time a little harder.

  
"Derek, it's just a dream," he said. Derek kicked his legs, pulling the blanket off of him. Stiles maneuvered himself so he was standing, one knee digging into the mattress. He grabbed Derek's arms, which were dangerously close to cutting Stiles' skin.

  
"Derek!" Stiles said, using the power of the nemeton to hold Derek down. Derek's eyes shot open, shining a vibrant blue, a gasp leaving his lips. Stiles dropped onto the bed, letting Derek calm down. A small sob broke through Derek and Stiles quickly wrapped his arms around the younger teen.

  
Derek wrapped shaky arms around Stiles' torso, burying his face in Stiles' bare chest.

  
He cried silently, slumped against Stiles, who held him firmly.

  
Stiles let his eyes close, still tired. He rested his head on Derek's head, ready to hold Derek all night if need be.

  
Derek pulled back, leaning against the headboard.

  
He wiped at his cheeks embarrassed, sucking in a sharp breath.

  
"Sorry," he said brokenly. Stiles gave a small smile when Derek gestured to his bare chest.

  
"Don't worry," Stiles said, grabbing a shirt at the floor by the bed and putting it on. It was Derek's. "Are you okay?" He asked.

  
Derek looked down at the blankets before pulling them up to his waist. "I'm okay," he nodded, sniffling.

  
Stiles got up, crawling over to the side of the bed pressed to the wall. Derek didn't say anything when Stiles leaned against the headrest beside him, staying above the blankets.

  
"You don't have to stay with me," Derek said softly, eyes still red and puffy. Stiles leaned his head back, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath.

  
"I'm already asleep," he hummed.

  
Derek shuffled beside him before Stiles felt a blanket drape over him. Stiles opened his eyes, looking down at the blanket around him, then looked at Derek, who had slid down to rest his head on the pillow.

  
He was turned towards Stiles, looking up at him. Stiles shifted as well, laying his head on the edge of the pillow. He stayed on his back, but his head was turned to face Derek.

  
"Thanks," he said softly. Stiles smiled in response before letting his eyes fall closed again.

  
*-*

  
Stiles woke up with a grunt. The two had shifted positions sometime during the night. Stiles was still on his back, but his leg was draped over Derek's. Derek was on his stomach with an arm over Stiles' neck. Derek's nose was pressed into the side of Stiles' head, breathing loudly in his ear.

  
Derek seemed to wake up st the same time, his head turning as he groaned.

  
Stiles stretched, his leg falling off of Derek. He pulled his arm off, raising himself up. Derek looked blurry eyes over at Stiles, who was still stretching.

  
"Morning," Derek said, voice deep and rough with sleep.

  
"What time is it?" Stiles asked, rubbing his eyes. It was the weekend, and depending on the time, Stiles was going to go back to bed.

  
Derek reached over to the bedside table, grabbing his phone and checking. He let out a groan, head falling back onto the pillow.

  
"Its noon," he groaned. Stiles huffed. He'd have to get up if he wanted to sleep tonight. Derek lifted himself up again in resignation, climbing out of the bed. Stiles followed after him.

  
Derek was wearing sweats and a tshirt and Stiles gave him a look. How could he wear all that and not be sweating? Stiles only had boxers and Derek's shirt on and he felt sweat sticking to his hair and the back of his neck.

  
"My shirts too big on you," Derek commented with a smirk. Stiles looked down. It was a size too big.

  
"Or you're just obnoxiously big for a sixteen year old," Stiles huffed, pulling it over his head and throwing it at Derek.

  
Derek caught it easily, dropping it in the hamper.

  
"I think you're just small," Derek said.

  
"I'm taller than you," Stiles reminded, grabbing a pair of pants off the floor.

  
"I'm stronger than you."

  
Stiles huffed a laugh, jumping as he pulled his pants on.

  
"That's debatable."

  
Derek had yet to change out of his clothes -he was watching Stiles.

  
"You think you can beat me in a fight?" Derek asked, crossing his arms.

  
"A fight of wits or fists?" Stiles asked, pulling a shirt from the drawer.

  
"We both know you'd kick my ass when it comes to smarts," Derek said with a roll of his eyes. Stiles pulled the shirt over his head, letting the fabric fall down to his waist before running a hand through his bedhead.

  
"Aw, don't say that," Stikes said, walking over to pat Derek on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'd make a few rounds."

  
Derek rolled his eyes again, the faintest hint of a smile on his lips. Stiles was glad he was feeling better from the night before.

  
"As for fighting fists," Stiles hummed. "I'd definitely win."

  
"Bullshit," Derek laughed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day!

It was late at night, the whole house was fast asleep. Stiles had somehow snuck out without waking up Derek. He walked silently through the woods, the heavy pocket knife hitting his thigh through his sweat pants pocket as he stomped through the foliage.

  
When he reached the nemeton, the tree seemed to almost glow a dark hue. Stiles stopped in the clearing and slipped out of his shoes and socks.

  
Stiles had prayed before, but never to a nemeton. He prayed to nature, to the earth and the animals. It was a way of life for practicing druids. Stiles pulled his clothes off, leaving him naked in the darkness.

  
He grabbed the pocket knife from his pants before walking to the tree.

  
He crouched down, digging his fingers into the dirt of the earth around the roots of the tree before running his fingers from shoulder to shoulder, smearing the dirt across his chest.

  
Another line of dirt started at his hair line and ended at his clavicle. He claimed onto the tree, sitting down and crossing his legs in the middle.

  
He closed his eyes, the knife sitting in front of him and his head tilted back to look at the sky.

  
The power of the nemeton was strong, he could feel it pulsating through his body. He hadn't prayed in a long time, and a part of him felt silly; sitting in the woods butt ass naked. Sure, he prayed with Deaton in the beginnings of all his lessons, but those prayers weren't as intimate with nature.

  
Not only that, but Stiles had never performed a ritualistic sacrifice.

  
He took a deep breath, opening his eyes and looking back down from the dark sky.

  
He reached for the knife, pulling it open and wrapping his hand around the blade. His hands shook with the promise of pain, his heart beat racing.

  
He held his arms out and closed his eyes again.

  
"I touch and surrender myself to the earth," he started. His voice was hushed, matching the pitch of nature around him.

  
"May I become one with my true nature," he continued. "Allowing your power to flow through me."

  
Stiles tightened his hold on the knife, pulling it across the flesh of his palm. He let out a pain filled cry, his hands shaking. Stiles pulled the knife away, opening his hand palm up to see the small pool of blood forming on his palm.

  
Stiles flipped his hand, wrapping his fingers into a fist and squeezing. He gritted his teeth, hand shaking in pain as blood dropped onto the nemeton.

  
The feeling of restored power was almost immediate. The dull vibrations grew a little stronger, the pulsing power in his core growing as well.

  
He opened his palm, wincing at the sticky blood coating his hand. The cut ran the length of his palm, but wasn't super deep.

  
"That was quite the show."

  
Stiles jumped, eyes widening as he turned to face the voice. He hadn't heard anyone coming.

  
The man stepped out from the shadows, into the moonlit clearing. Stiles froze, seeing Deucalion, arms pulled behind him.

  
"I've never seen a druid prayer before."

  
Stiles stayed where he was, breathing heavy.

  
"Its a sacred practice," Stiles managed. "No one is supposed to see."

  
"I apologize," Deucalion said, stepping closer. Stiles didn't like how close he was getting. "I didn't mean to offend you."

  
Stiles stood then, the werewolf just a few feet away from the tree. He didn't care that he was naked; the need to leave quickly overpowering his modesty.

  
The knife was still in his hand, and he held the blade tightly as he jumped off the nemeton.

  
"Don't you have a druid of your own?" Stiles snapped, too anxious to hold up a civil bravado. "They should've explained our ways to you."

  
Deucalion was following him to his clothes. His skin crawled. "My druid prays," Deucalion said, keeping a fair bit of distance between the two of them. Stiles bent down, grabbing his boxers and stepping into them. "But not like that."

  
"You're not supposed to be on Hale territory," Stiles said, climbing into his pants as quickly as possible. "Not after Ennis killed that girl."

  
"In fact," Deucalion said, ignoring Stiles as he took a few steps closer. "My druid doesn't do a lot of things you can."

  
Stiles froze, breath hitching in his throat before he shot a look Deucalion's way.

  
"He must not practice as much as he ought to," Stiles said, slipping into his shoes without his socks on. He just wanted to get out of there. He snagged his shirt and straightened, just in time for Deucalion to push him into a tree.

  
Stiles let out a breath, the bark digging into the skin of his back, claws digging into his chest.

  
"What are you?" Deucalion demanded, eyes glowing red. Stiles' eyes widened, the grip on his shirt tightening.

  
"A druid," Stiles said, swallowing thickly.

  
"Druids can't throw teenage boys across rooms without touching them," Deucalion growled out. Stiles knew he had seen something. His breathing came out in short puffs as the werewolf pressed him further into the tree.

  
"Why is Talia hiding you?" He demanded. "What are you?"

  
Stiles reached his hands up, using the power from the nemeton to throw Deucalion back.

  
Stiles took off into a sprint through the woods before the werewolf could right himself.

  
Deucalion let out a growling howl, sending chills down Stiles' spine as he pushed himself faster.

  
Stiles knew the werewolf would catch up with him before he was even close to the safety of the Hale house, so he pulled power from deep within his chest, pushing it towards the surface of his skin.

  
He heard Deucalion cstching up and pushed harder.

  
Stiles let out a shout, pushing the power as he did, and jumped.

  
The raven caught him midair, transforming his human form. Stiles flapped at his wings, pushing down hard. He flew up above the treeline, looking down to see Deucalion chasing him and very quickly losing sight of him.

  
Stiles flew to the Hale house, landing unsteadily on the windowsill of Derek's room.

  
The light was still on, Derek sleeping soundly with his head facing the wall. Stiles tapped on the glass. The werewolf shifted and Stiles did it again.

  
After the forth attempt, Derek lifted his head, frowning at the window. Stiles let out a loud caw, tapping at the window.

  
Derek said something Stiles couldn't hear, then turned to Stiles' bed. Upon seeing it empty, Derek shot up, brows furrowing. Stiles tapped on the glass again, flapping his wings anxiously.

  
Derek walked over to the window and pulled it open. "Stiles?" He asked in shock. Stiles flew into the room, landing on the floor with noisy wings. Derek quickly shut the window and dropped to his knees in front of Stiles, eyes wide.

  
"When you said you could shape shift, I didn't really believe you," he said. Stiles flapped his wings in an attempt to change back.

  
Changing back was always harder to do.

  
Come on, Stiles, you can do this.

  
It happened a lot sooner than Stiles had thought. Usually it took hours to days to change back, but both his and Paige's sacrifices made it so much easier to do so.

  
Stiles shifted painfully, gasping and dropping to his knees.

  
"Holy shit!" Derek exclaimed, jumping back.


	14. Chapter 14

Stiles gasped for breath, his body shaking with exhaustion. He fell back on his legs, gulping in the air.

  
"Jesus Christ," Derek continued, running a hand through his hair as he took in Stiles' very naked form kneeling in the middle of their room.

"What the hell happened?"

  
Stiles opened his eyes, looking over at Derek. He couldn't exactly tell him Deucalion caught him ritually sacrificing himself to the nemeton in order to keep the power coursing through him. Not after Paige.

  
"It's a long story," Stiles said instead.

  
"You're covered in dirt and you're bleeding," Derek said, getting to his feet. Stiles looked down at his hand, the cut still burning.

  
Stiles needed a shower. He got to his feet, legs unsteady underneath him. Derek rushed to his side just as Stiles stumbled a bit, grabbing him and holding him upright.

  
"Shape shifting really takes a lot outta ya," Stiles joked breathlessly. Derek scowled at him, leading Stiles towards the door.

  
"Tell me what happened," he demanded.

  
"Only if you let me put on clothes," Stiles said, stopping before Derek could drag him out into the hallway. Derek's cheeks turned bright pink, eyes momentarily dropping down Stiles' body before looking away. Stiles pulled his arm from around him, reaching for a pair of shorts on the floor and stepping into them.

  
Derek had to grab him again when Stiles tried to get his other leg in. When they were pulled up, Derek opened the bedroom door.

  
"Bathroom," he demanded. Stiles rolled his eyes before slowly making his way across the hall.

  
With the bathroom door closed behind them, Stiles dropped onto the toilet, running a hand through his hair.

  
"Now," Derek said, standing above him and grabbing a wash cloth from the drawer under the sink. "What happened?"

  
Stiles huffed. "I was praying," he said. Derek rung out the towel before smearing it across Stiles' forehead.

  
"Is that what the dirt is for?" He asked, running the rag down the bridge of his nose.

  
"It brings us closer to earth," Stiles informs him. Derek only nodded, rinsing the rag out and continuing to wipe the dirt off his face.

  
"The cut on your hand?"

  
"Oh, that?" Stiles gave a shrug. "I had a run in with a werewolf." Again, he wasn't actually lying.

  
"Who?" Derek asked, frowning. "Not anyone in our pack, right?"

  
"Not anyone from the Hale pack," Stiles said, making Derek's shoulders relax.

  
"Was it Ennis?" He asked quietly. Stiles shook his head. "Then who?"

  
Stiles sighed, lifting his chin while Derek wiped the dirt from his neck.

  
"Deucalion," he said. Derek looked up at him with an unbelieving frown.

  
"Deucalion is a peace keeper," Derek said, dropping to his knees as he began wiping the dirt off Stiles' chest. "He doesn't attack unless he's provoked."

  
"Well I sure as fuck didn't provoke him," Stiles spat, leaning away from Derek's rag. The younger sighed, dropping the rag.

  
"I didn't mean it like that, Stiles," he huffed. "All I mean is it's strange that Deucalion would attack you."

  
"He's afraid of me," Stiles said. When Derek frowned in confusion, Stiles elaborated. "He saw me force project you across the room the day you wolfed out," he said, making Derek's eyes widen. "He ambushed me while I was praying."

  
Derek lifted the rag up, continuing to wipe the dirt off his chest. "I pushed him and ran off, and I had to shapeshift just to out run him."

  
"We gotta tell my mom," Derek said. "If this happened on her territory, it's her right to punish him."

  
Stiles only sighed, looking down at his bloody hand. It still hurt a lot.

  
Derek stood up, dropping the rag into the corner by the tub before reaching under the sink for another rag.

  
He was back in front of Stiles, and reached for his hand. Stiles let him hold the back of his hand. Stiles' eyes widened as grey veins came to the surface of his skin. The pain in his palm was slowly disappearing with the pulse of the veins in Derek's arm.

  
"Cool trick," he said, making Derek roll his eyes. He started cleaning the blood off his fingers.

  
"We'll go to my mom in the morning to tell her what happened," Derek said, eyes glued to Stiles' hand.

  
Stiles nodded. "This means I'm going to have to leave again."

  
Derek's head snapped up, frowning at Stiles. "What?"

  
"I came here because people found out about me back where I lived before," Stiles said. "I came here because no one knew about what I could do. Now that Deucalion knows, I'm not safe here anymore."

  
"Yes you are," Derek said, hand now forgotten. Derek still held it, but the bloody rag lay unmoving against Stiles' fingers. "We'll protect you."

  
Stiles gave a small sad smile and shook his head. "If Deucalion tells anyone else, I'll be putting your pack in danger."

  
Derek frowned. "Then we'll take care of Deucalion and you can stay."

  
"Take care of him?" Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow. "Talia wont kill a beta, let alone an alpha -a friend."

  
Derek's eyes dropped, knowing Stiles was right.

  
"Its okay," Stiles reassured the younger teen, placing his hand on Derek's shoulder. "We'll tell your mom in the morning, and then Deaton will help me find a new place to stay."

  
Derek didn't look happy at all, but he said nothing and continued to clean the blood from Stiles' hand. With Derek's eyes off him, Stiles let the small smile drop, eyebrows furrowing. He really didn't want to leave.

  
He suddenly hated himself very much. Why had he decided to sneak out in the middle of the night go bleed on a tree anyway? It was selfish, wanting that power. But his power had come so easily to him when the nemeton was awake, Stiles wanted to keep it awake.

  
He realized now that was probably a bad idea. When Derek finished cleaning the blood up, he grabbed three bandaids from the drawer.

  
"We don't have anything else," Derek said softly, in apology. Stiles only shrugged, letting Derek put the bandaids on before throwing the extra pieces in the trash.

  
The two left the bathroom, and crossed the hallway to the bedroom. Stiles shut the door behind him before walking to the bed.

  
He knew Deucalion wouldn't try to break in, but the thought of him waiting outside made it hard for Stiles to fully relax.

  
"Stiles?"

  
Stiles looked over to Derek, who had yet to lay down. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between his knees.

  
"Hmm?"

  
"I don't want you to leave."

  
Stiles sat up, sighing heavily.

  
"I don't either," he confessed, looking at Derek. "But I don't want to hurt you guys either."

  
Derek got up suddenly, walking to Stiles.

  
"What is it?" Stiles asked, about to stand up as well when Derek stopped right in front of him and leaned down.

  
Derek grabbed Stiles' face, leaning down and kissing him roughly. Stiles' breath caught in his throat loudly, eyes widening. Derek pulled away, looking down at Stiles with a frown. Stiles opened his mouth, but closed it when he had nothing to say.

  
"I don't want you to go, Stiles."


	15. Chapter 15

Present day

  
Lydia had made sure to call the cops when Derek got them all back into the car. They passed by the cruisers with their flashing lights on the way to drop Scott off at his house.

  
Stiles sat in silence, hands shaking. Allison and Lydia had gotten out at Allison's house, leaving Stiles and Derek alone.

  
Stiles held his hands between his legs to stifle the shaking, but his mind raced.

  
"Stiles," Derek spoke. Stiles looked up at him, breath catching. He looked back at his lap. "Stiles, talk to me."

  
When Stiles didn't, Derek dropped it. He drove them back to his loft, and Stiles followed mutely, mind still racing.

  
Derek had just shut the door behind them when Stiles finally found his voice.

  
"I shouldn't be here," he said softly, running a hand through his hair. It was so quiet, a normal person wouldnt have heard it, but Derek picked it up and frowned at him.

  
"What do you mean?"

  
Stiles dropped onto the couch, head in his hands and elbows digging into his knees. He took a shaky breath, one leg beginning to bounce.

  
Derek walked over and knelt down in front of him, hands grabbing Stiles' knees and squeezing.

  
Stiles looked up, hands still covering his face.

  
"Deucalion," he said softly. "Its my fault."

  
Derek grabbed Stiles' wrists, pulling them down so he could get a better look at Stiles' face. The teenager was filled with guilt, the emotion pulling his features into a grimace.

  
"No its not," Derek said sternly. "Deucalion killed his pack after the fire."

  
Stiles shook his head, eyes watering. "He wanted power. He saw what I could do and he wanted it."

  
Stiles took a breath. "Derek, everything happened because of me. The fire, the alpha pack, the darach-"

  
"Stiles, none of this was because of you," Derek said. Stiles stood up so quick he nearly pushed Derek over. He stepped around him and began pacing around the empty space of the loft.

  
"Yes it is, Derek!" Stiles snapped. "Deucalion wouldn't have started that fire if I hadn't been stupid and just kept what I am a secret!"

  
"Deucalion didn't set the fire, Stiles, Kate did."

  
Stiles shook his head, wiping at the tears that fell as he paced. "She helped, Derek. Deucalion wanted me dead. He wanted Talia dead for not backing his plan to talk to Gerard. He was power hungry, and now he has power!"

  
Derek grabbed Stiles by the arm, halting his frantic pacing and turning him to face Derek. "What are you talking abou?" He demanded. "How do you know this?"

  
"Because I was there," Stiles confessed. "I was there when the house caught fire, I saw Deucalion with Kate."

  
He pulled his arm out of Derek's grip, taking a step back. He couldn't look Derek in the eye, his chest and throat painfully tight with emotion.

  
"I'm the reason your family is dead," he said, voice cracking as he finally looked up at Derek. "I didn't leave when I should have and now there's no one left."

  
Derek stayed quiet. Stiles let out a breath. "I shouldn't be here."

  
Stiles was walking to the door, mind set on leaving. He couldn't face Deucalion again; couldn't help them with the darach.

  
He reached the door and yanked it open just enough to fit through before making his way to the stairs.

  
He took the stairs two at a time, wiping at his eyes as he made it out of the building. He didn't know where he was going, but he didn't really care. He'd find a bus stop and leave town. Or maybe he could shape shift into that fox again and never shift back.

  
Before he knew it, Stiles found himself in Greenville park. It was empty save for a jogger and an old man sitting at a bench.

  
Stiles walked to a small patch of maple trees, laying down in the grass, facing the tree tops.

  
The sounds of birds, the wind rustling the trees and the squirrels calmed Stiles. The feeling of grass and the sun shining through the holes in the leaves seemed to recharge him and he closed his eyes.  
He laid out for what felt like hours, soaking in the nature around him, letting it calm him.

  
The sound of someone walking across the grass towards him pulled him from his reset and he opened his eyes to see Derek standing over him.

  
Stiles stayed where he was, fingers playing with the grass at his side.

  
Derek let out a sigh and got down, laying beside Stiles silently. Stiles looked up at the green canopy of leaves, watching as they twisted and shook with the wind.

  
"How'd you find me?" Stiles asked after a while, breaking the silence.

  
"I followed your scent."

  
More silence. Stiles pulled a clump of grass out of the dirt, twisting it between his fingers.

  
"You're not you anymore," Stiles said softly. He felt Derek turn his head to look at him, but Stiles kept his eyes at the leaves.

  
"You changed because of me."

  
Derek lifted himself onto an elbow, looking down at Stiles with a frown.

  
"I don't blame you for the fire, Stiles," he said evenly. Stiles lowered his eyes to look at him, eyebrows pulled together. "You didn't light the match. And even if they did it to kill you, I still don't blame you."

  
Stiles dropped his gaze. "You should."

  
"Kate would've found a way to set the fire without Deucalion's help," he continued. "She's set fires like that before."

  
Stiles glanced up at him again. "And Deucalion's need for power wasn't because of you either."

  
Stiles went to speak, to correct him, when Derek spoke again. "Gerard did that."

  
"You mean that guy Deucalion wanted to meet up with?" Stiles asked with a frown. Derek nodded.

  
"It was a trap. Deucalion lost half of his pack, and his eyesight," Derek said. He was sitting now, legs crossed beside Stiles. "He killed the other half, and got Ennis and Kali to do the same."

  
Stiles sat up st that, eyebrows raised. "They killed their own packs?"

  
Derek nodded. "None of this has to do with you."

  
Stiles shook his head, looking down at the grass, his fingers twisting around the blades and pulling them out of the dirt.

  
"Can you please come back with me?" Derek asked after a beat. Stiles looked up at him, chewing the inside of his cheek.

  
"You still want me around?"

  
Derek got to his feet, holding out a hand for Stiles who took it and pulled himself up.

  
"Nothing was your fault," Derek reiterated, looking down at Stiles. He used to be shorter. "And we could really use your help figuring out how to stop Deucalion and whoever this darach is."

  
Stiles gave a small nod, brushing the dirt off his rear end as the two walked towards the parking lot, where Derek's car sat.


	16. Chapter 16

Two weeks later

  
"We still have no idea who the darach is," Scott huffed in exasperation. They had just found a third body. Three virgins.

  
"It could be anyone," Allison agreed. Stiles looked up from his papers, eyeing Derek before setting them down.

  
"So, if the darach is sacrificing using the five-fold knot, we're looking at five different sacrifices," he said, standing up from his seat.

  
He spread the papers out across the table, Scott, Allison, Lydia and Issac all shuffling closer to look. Derek stayed just behind Stiles' shoulder, arms crossed.

  
"Five sacrifices?" Issac asked. "Meaning two more are going to happen?"

  
"No," Stiles shook his head. The werewolves hadn't caught on to the similarity in victims -Derek and Stiles being the only ones who caught it. Not even the police seemed to catch it. They weren't looking for someone ritualistically sacrificing people, they were just looking for a serial killer.

  
"No, the darach is sacrificing in threes," he said, pointing to the papers.

  
"Three virgins -the blonde girl, the guy at the pool and the brunette were all virgins."

  
"Why three?" Issac asked. "Why not five, like the knot?"

  
"Three represents creation and completion," Stiles explained. "You've heard of the divine three -father, son, holy spirit, sun, moon, truth-"

  
"Alpha, beta, omega," Allison added. Stiles nodded.

  
"Exactly. It's a reminder from the universe of our creative potential and our divine nature," he explained. "Druids have seen the number three as symbol of life and fertility since the beginning."

  
"And the darach was a druid at one point," Scott said, connecting the dots. Stiles nodded again.

  
"So what are the other four sacrifices?" Lydia asked. Stiles pointed to a different piece of paper. He had tried dumbing his knowledge on the matter down for them, had written it down so they could use it for reference.

  
Derek stepped a bit closer, setting a hand on the table beside Stiles and encasing him in his large frame. Stiles felt his shoulder blade brush against Derek's chest.

  
"Warriors, healers, philosophers and guardians," Stiles said.

  
"You wouldn't happen to know who the darach is gonna go after next, would you?" Issac asked, sounding hopeful but doubtful.

  
Stiles shook his head and a collective sigh fell from the teenagers' mouths.

  
"No, there's no set order to this, and if there was, I doubt the darach would follow them."

  
"So we just have to wait until they sacrifice someone else before we figure out what group is next?" Scott asked.

  
Stiles only gave a small shrug in answer. It was the only thing they could do.

  
"But even then, we don't know who exactly it'll be," Allison sighed.

  
"For healers," she pointed to the scrawled word on the page. "How many doctors are in Beacon Hills hospital alone? And how do we know it means doctors? It could mean psychologists, vets, counselors."

  
"So either way, we're going to lose," Scott said, running a hand through his hair.

  
"Not necessarily," Stiles said, bringing everyone's attention back to him. "I may be able to find the darach."

  
"How?" Lydia asked. The other three looked at Stiles with baited breaths. He could tell the three sacrifices were weighing on them -not being able to stop them from happening.

  
"The power the nemeton releases connects us all," Stiles said. "Druids feel that connection more strongly."

  
Stiles had talked to Derek the night before about the possibility of finding the darach.

  
"I feel it even stronger," he continued. "I can feel the nemeton, but I also feel the darach."

  
"So you'd be able to find them?" Issac asked.

  
"Hopefully," Stiles said with a nod. "I've never done it before, but if I can follow the power to the nemeton, I should be able to follow it to the darach."

  
*-*

  
"You're not going out there alone," Derek growled out, low and threateningly. He had situated himself to stand in front of the door to thr loft, arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at Stiles.

  
Stiles huffed, dropping the small bag to the ground in an almost tantrum fit.

  
"Derek, if I want to find the darach, I have to."

  
"Not alone," Derek pressed. Stiles let his head fall back, an angered groan falling from his lips before his neck snapped forward.

  
"I can't do it with you watching!" He said. "Its not-"

  
"I'm going with you or you're not going at all," Derek interrupted, also angry. "Deucalion and the darach are out there."

  
Stiles let out another groan, walking away from Derek, running a hand through his hair. He made it to the table before turning around and walking back.

  
"When did you get so stubborn?" He seethed. Stiles was supposed to be the stubborn one, not Derek.

  
"When I lost everyone," Derek bit back. Stiles took a step back, like the words had physically punched him, his hard features going slack. He dropped his gaze, suddenly feeling his throat tighten.

  
He was once again reminded that the reason Derek was who he was, was because of Stiles. Derek let out a sigh, smelling Stiles' chemosignals change to regret and sadness.

  
He took a step to Stiles, grabbing the teenager by the shoulder and pulling him into his chest.

  
Stiles stumbled, face pressing into Derek's chest as strong arms circled around him, holding him there.

  
Stiles brought his arms up to wrap around his torso, resting st the small of his back, comforted by the act.

  
"Please let me come with you," Derek said softly, head dropping so his cheek pressed against Stiles' forehead.

  
"Okay," Stiles said. He wouldn't fight him; not after what he had said. The two stood like that for a while longer and Stiles didn't realize how much he needed this.

  
Derek was a completely different person now, and Stiles was having a hard time accepting it. He knew it was Derek, but everything that he knew about Derek was different; torn and mangled into what he was now.

  
But holding him, Stiles got a glimpse of the teenager and he felt his body relax around him.

  
Stiles pulled away first, not looking Derek in the eye as he passed him and grabbed the bag off the floor. He turned to look at Derek, clearing his throat.

  
"Let's go, before I change my mind," he said, eyeing Derek before dropping his gaze to the floor. Derek walked back to the door, pulling it open and letting Stiles pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finished this book! (There will be 30 chapters)  
> I want to do a thing I did a long time ago, which is a Q&A! If you have any questions for myself, the characters or anything about Druid, please comment and ask! At the end of the book I will be posting the Q&A to help clear up plots or thought processes! I'll ask again at the end of the book but please feel free to ask as many questions as you want!


	17. Chapter 17

The two reached the nemeton in under a half hour. Stiles was anxious about Derek being there. He'd never done this sort of thing around anyone else -unless you counted that run in with Deucalion.

  
Druidic rituals weren't for outsiders' eyes, and allowing Derek to watch felt like an encroachment of his privacy. Like he was dirtying the sacredity of it all.

  
Derek stayed a good distance from the nemeton, arms crossed as he looked over the woods around the clearing, listening intently.

  
Stiles quickly removed his shoes and socks before stepping into the clearing, dragging Derek's attention to him when he pulled his shirt over his head.

  
"What are you doing?" He asked. Stiles felt his ears grow hot, cheeks and chest tingling pink as Derek looked at him. Stiles quickly covered his embarrassment with a scowl.

  
"I agreed for you to watch," he said, clearing his throat as he unbuttoned his jeans. "And only to watch."

  
Derek's eyes dropped with Stiles' pants and he swallowed thickly before looking away.

  
Stiles was grateful the wolf had the tiniest sense of modesty and shucked his boxers down.

  
"Can you guard without looking?" Stiles asked, hands covering himself. The last time he did this he was alone -for most of it- and the idea of Derek seeing him naked made his chest tighten.

  
"I've seen you naked before, Stiles, remember?" Derek asked, keeping his eyes glued to the treeline.

  
"That was different," Stiles sighed. "I wasn't- this is more-" Stiles flushed.

  
"This is more intimate than me flying through your window in the middle of the night."

  
This got a pink flush to tinge the base of Derek's neck, and he tore his eyes from the trees to look at Stiles, careful to keep his eyes above his neck.

  
"I won't look, and I wont say anything," he promised.

  
Stiles nodded, giving a tight lipped smile in thanks. When Derek looked away again, Stiles picked up his bag and headed for the nemeton.

  
He paused and reached down to the earth, smearing dirt across his chest and down his face, rushing it a bit now that Derek was there.

  
He climbed up onto it, sitting down with his legs crossed before unzipping the bag.

  
Derek turned his gaze to watch as Stiles pulled out three candles, a knife from Derek's kitchen, and a folded map.

  
Stiles set the candles out in front of him, one straight ahead, and the other two positioned from his folded knees. Stiles reached into the bag again, taking out a lighter before leaning forward to light the candles.

  
When they were all lit, Stiles set the lighter on top of the bag, pushing it behind him. He grabbed the map next, unfolding it and setting it down on the nemeton in front of him. He moved the candles to set on the edges of the map, scooting back a little before grabbing the knife.

  
It was thin and long, much bigger than the pocket knife he had used all those years ago. And like before, Stiles felt anxious, his hands shaking as he held the knife.

  
"Stiles," Derek called, sensing the anxiety rolling off of him.

  
"No talking, Derek," Stiles said, voice shaky. Derek resigned, shoulders still tense.

  
Stiles took a breath, calming himself as he closed his eyes. "I touch and surrender myself to the earth."

Stiles wrapped his hand around the blade of the knife, feeling his hands shake as he held his arms out.

  
"May I become one with my true nature, allowing your power to flow through me." He pulled the knife down, a gasping groan falling from his lips as the knife cut flesh.

  
Derek had to restrain himself from interfering, the smallest growl escaping his throat.

  
Stiles dropped the knife, holding his palm open and watching the blood pool there.

  
"Keep me connected to my brothers and sisters," he continued, voice soft. He turned his hand, letting the blood dribble from his palm onto the map. Power surged through him again, knocking into his chest. Stiles sucked in a shaky breath, his bones vibrating with the nemeton.

  
His hand curled into a fist, squeezing more blood from his palm, eyes dropping closed as he bled onto the map.

  
Derek waited with baited breath, the tiny hairs on his arms sticking up with goosebumps.

  
Stiles opened his eyes again, unfocused and drifting and white. He released his hand, head turning to the left before he got to his feet. Derek frowned when he saw Stiles wipe his bloody palm against his chest, subconsciously trying to wipe off the sticky feeling onto his shirt. The blood smeared across his pale skin, and Stiles stepped down from the nemeton.

  
"Stiles," Derek called. Stiles didn't answer. With a grunt, Derek scooped up his clothes and charged after the boy.

  
Stiles walked blindly through the woods, feeling the pull of power, much like the nemeton's. It was an almost physical pull, like a string tugging at the skin of his chest.

  
He didnt see or hear anything but that pull and the deep rumbling vibration of the nemeton as he walked on.

  
And then suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, pulling him back and breaking the string.

  
Stiles let out a gasp, eyes focusing on Derek. He blinked before his eyebrows furrowed.

  
"What did you do?" He asked.

  
"What do you mean what did I do?" Derek demanded, looking freaked out. "You were freaking me out, and walking through the woods naked in a trance."

  
Stiles' frown deepened, and he looked around the woods, realization setting in. They were quite a ways from the nemeton now.

  
"I was following the darach," he said slowly, eyeing the direction he had been going before looking up at Derek. "I told you not to interfere."

  
"What was your plan if you found them?" Derek asked, frowning. He still held Stiles' clothes under his arm, the thick rubber of his converse digging into his ribs. "May I remind you you're naked, and have no way of protecting yourself against an evil druid."

  
Stiles scowled up at Derek, letting out a huff. He was right. Stiles didn't even know what he was doing; what would he have done if he broke out of the trance face to face with the darach?

  
After a moment, Derek held out his clothes. Stiles looked down at his very naked body, about to be very embarrassed when the site of blood dripping from his chest made his heart start.

  
"I'm bleeding!" He said, reaching up to poke at it. Derek sighed, taking his hand and pulling it from his chest.

  
"You wiped your hand on your chest," he explained. He cradled the hand in both of his, pulling at the pain that throbbed there. Stiles watched silently as the thick grey veins ran up his arms, disappearing under his shirt sleeves.

  
"You did this before, when Deucalion chased you." It wasn't a question. Stiles took his hand back, sighing as he set his clothes on the ground and grabbed his boxers.

  
"You said he did it." The accusatory tone was not lost on Stiles, and he sighed, looking up at Derek and chewing his inner cheek.

  
"I lied," Stiles said.

  
"Well that's pretty damn obvious!" Derek snapped. Stiles grimaced, grabbing his shirt. Derek growled, grabbing the shirt from Stiles' hand and throwing it to the ground. Stiles shot his eyes to Derek, the werewolf pushing him into a tree with one hand pressed to Stiles' blood covered chest.

  
"Why did you lie to me?" Derek growled out. Stiles shifted a bit, the bark of the tree digging painfully into the skin of his back.

  
"Because you were sixteen and you'd just lost Paige," Stiles said. "I didn't think you would take a ritual sacrifice very well."

  
Derek blinked and took a step back, hand falling from Stiles' chest. Stiles took a step from the tree, rolling his shoulder blades.

  
"You sacrificed yourself to that- to the nemeton?" Derek asked, frowning.

  
"Not all sacrifices need to end in death," Stiles said softly. His hand was beginning to sting again, and he brought it up, looking down at the cut. It was identical to the one on his other palm.

  
Derek let out a breath, knowing Stiles was talking about Paige.

  
"We're going home," he said, sounding exhausted. Stiles only nodded, quickly putting his clothes on before following Derek.


	18. Chapter 18

The two didnt say a word during the walk to the car, or during the drive to the loft. When Stiles had made it inside the apartment, he dropped the bag by the door, heading for the spiral staircase to grab a change of clothes.

  
"Stiles, wait."

  
Stiles pauses and turns to look at Derek. Derek reached a hand out, ushering him to come closer. Stiles did, stopping to stand just a few feet from Derek, before he grabbed Stiles by the shoulder and angled him to the bathroom.

  
Stiles let the older man lead him into the bathroom, Derek shutting the door behind them. Stiles stood in the bathroom unmoving as Derek reached behind the curtain and turned the water on. He then moved to the cupboard and pulled out two towels before looking at Stiles.

  
"Take your clothes off," he said. Stiles wanted to give a snarky remark, but he only nodded. He didn't think it was appropriate under the circumstances.

  
He pulled his clothes off, setting them in a pile to the side and covering his front. Derek held the curtain open and Stiles stepped in, the warm water wetting his skin. He saw dirt and mud mix with water down the drain.

  
"I feel like I'm in trouble," Stiles grumbled when Derek stood with the curtain half open, running a washcloth over Stiles' chest. Derek was scowling, and it deepened when he looked at Stiles.

  
"You can't actually be mad at me," Stiles huffed, glaring at Derek.

  
"Oh, yes I can," Derek growled. "You lied to me, and you put yourself in danger knowing full well how I felt."

  
"That was ten years ago," Stiles reminded. "And I'm not used to being the younger of the two."

  
Derek's scrubbing paused, but resumed quickly.

  
"I didn't need your approval or concent before," Stiles continued. "I can take care of myself, and I have for a long time."

  
"I know," Derek said, rinsing the rag out. He wiped at Stiles' forehead and let out a sigh. "I'm not used to this either, you know."

  
Stiles nodded. "You should be twenty-seven now, and instead you're seventeen, and you haven't changed at all, and it's a lot to process all at once."

  
"Tell me about it."

  
Derek ran the rag down the bridge of his nose and chin. When he finished wiping the dirt and blood off, he turned off the shower and grabbed a towel, holding it out to Stiles.

  
Stiles took it and quickly wrapped it around his hips, tucking the end into the towel to keep it in place before stepping out of the tub.

  
Blood smeared against the white towel, and Stiles frowned, looking at his hand to see it had started bleeding again.

  
Derek draped the second towel over Stiles' head before making him sit on the toilet.

  
Stiles couldn't help the small sad smile pulling st his lips as Derek reached into the cupboard under the sink.

  
Derek glanced at him, pulling out a roll of gauze and tape.

  
"What?" He asked, setting them on Stiles' lap.

  
Stiles shook his head, smile dropping a bit. "Deja vu," he hummed.

  
Derek took Stiles' hand, using toilet paper to blot at the blood around the cut before wrapping his hand with the gauze.

  
"You might need stitches," Derek said, taping the end down. Stiles only shrugged, lifting his other hand up to show the scar, deep jagged tissue stretching across his palm.

  
"They match now."

  
Derek only huffed before standing to his feet. Stiles followed, pulling the towel on his head off and hanging it up. He made sure the towel around his waisted was secured before walking out of the bathroom behind Derek. He made his way to the spiral staircase, the cement cold against his wet feet.

  
Derek stayed down stairs, dropping down onto the sofa under the loft while Stiles went upstairs to get dressed.

  
He slipped into a pair of boxers and sweat pants before drying his hair and pulling a shirt on.

  
He made sure to put on a pair of socks before heading back down stairs.

  
He dropped into the couch beside Derek with a soft huff, leaning his head back against the back.

  
"We still don't know who the darach is," he commented.

  
"I know," Derek sighed. Stiles lifted his head up, tilting it to look at him.

  
"I don't suppose you're going to let me tey again," he tried. Derek sent a glare his way and Stiles lifted his hands in surrender. "Didn't think so."

  
"We'll figure something else out," Derek said with a sigh. Stiles nodded, leaning his head back. The two sat in silence, Stiles picking at the edge of the gauze over his hand.

  
"You should really get a tv," Stiles commented, breaking the silence. Derek glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.

  
"I have books," he said with a shrug. Stiles grinned, rolling his eyes.  
"You know I dont have the attention span for books." Derek grabbed at Stiles' hand, keeping him from picking at the gauze with a frown. He carefully covered Stiles' palm with his own, fitting his fingers between the teenager's. Stiles gave a small smile before leaning his head onto Derek's shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a breath.

  
"You're tired?" Derek asked, turning his head to look at Stiles.

  
"Magic is very exhausting, Derek," Stiles hummed. "Its like working a muscle you never use. I just gotta build up the muscle."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning!

10 years ago

  
Stiles woke up with pressure on his chest. He let out a low hum as he shifted, blinking his eyes open.

  
A head of black hair tickled at Stiles' chin and he frowned, tilting his head to the side to see Derek. He was laying completely on Stiles, his head pressed to Stiles' shoulder, legs tangled together. His arms were curled on either side of Stiles' sides.

  
"Mornin'," Derek grumbled, hearing the change in breathing. Derek lifted his head, looking down at Stiles with heavily hooded eyes.

  
"Hi," Stiles said, stretching under him. Derek pressed his face into the crook of Stiles' neck, scenting the teenager. Stiles smiled sleepily, bringing his arms around to hold Derek to his chest.

  
Stiles shifted a little, feeling a little constricted in his pants. Derek's leg was right between his legs, and as Stiles woke up, he realized he was pretty hard.

  
Derek lifted his head, a knowing look on his face.

  
"Shut up," Stiles groaned. Derek chuckled in response, making Stiles blush.

  
He pushed at the teenager on top of him, shoving him off and sliding out of the blankets.

  
"No, don't leave," Derek whined, grabbing Stiles by his shirt and yanking him back. Now the two were on their sides, Derek's arm snaking around Stiles' torso.

  
"Derek," Stiles groaned, not able to pull himself out of the stronger teen's hold. "I gotta go take care of it."

  
Derek laughed a bit, pressing his nose into Stiles' neck. Stiles fidgeted, the feel of Derek's lips on the base of his neck not helping.

  
"Let me do it," Derek said against his skin. Stiles shivered, his fight to escape the werewolf's grip slowing as Derek kissed at his neck.

  
Derek lifted himself up onto one shoulder, pushing Stiles back into the mattress.

  
"Can I?" He asked, causing Stiles to swallow thickly. He gave a small nod. Derek leaned down and pressed his lips to Sriles' jaw.

  
The arm that had wrapped around Stiles' torso shifted, his hand moving from Stiles' side to the top of his boxers.

  
His fingers dipped into the band of Stiles' boxers, ticking st the hair leading down.

  
Stiles couldn't do anything but lay there as Derek's hand went lower, pulling the boxers down as he went.

  
Derek lifted his head, hand pausing short. Stiles looked up at him, lips parted.

  
"If this is too fast just tell me," he said, all serious. Stiles shook his head, reaching a hand up to wrap around the back of his head, fingers entangling into his dark hair and pulling him down.  
Their lips touched, Stiles parting his licking at Derek's lower lip.

  
His breath hitched in his chest when Derek's hand wrapped around his cock, the skin of his palm cold.

  
Derek pulled away, sitting up a bit to free his other hand before tugging at Stiles' boxers down.

  
When he had more skin to work with, Derek dropped back onto his elbow, pressing his mouth to Stiles' bare clavicle, hand moving up and down Stiles' dick.

  
Stiles shuddered, fingers tightening in Derek's hair. His other hand gripped Derek's forearm, feeling the muscles ripple as he pumped slowly.

  
Stiles let out a soft breath, chin tilting up and hips shifting.

  
Derek latched onto the front of Stiles' neck, sucking and licking and biting.

  
Stiles felt a heat deep in his belly, a small whimper leaving his mouth. Derek pulled his hand away, causing Stiles to look at him, breath quick.

  
He watched as Derek brought his hand up, licking his palm.

  
"Oh, my God," Stiles breathed, making Derek smile before his hand came back to Stiles' cock, now slick.

  
Panting breaths left Stiles, whimpering and moaning softly as Derek worked him slowly into a frenzy.

  
Stiles' hips rolled with Derek's hand, soft breathy moans leaving his lips in pants, hands tightening their hold.

  
Derek watched his hips in fascination, before taking in his face. His eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowing and lips parted. His chin lifted into the air. Derek pressed a kiss to his jaw, brushing his palm across the tip of Stiles' cock.

  
Stiles shuttered out a groan, a little louder than the others.

  
Derek grinned, picking up his pace. The softness of Stiles' breaths and moans made it all that much better. Derek had thought Stiles would be louder, but the soft barely there noises of pleasure was still just as arousing.

  
"Der-" Stiles whispered hotly, eyes opening and body tensing. Derek pressed a kiss to his lips. Derek could smell the change in Stiles, his body tightening under him and shifting at the building arousal.  
Derek lowered his hand to the base of Stiles' cock, squeezing out a small gasping breath from Stiles before bringing his hand back up.

  
Stiles tightened his hold on Derek's hair, pulling his head back. Derek groaned, leaning up and nipping at Stiles' shoulder.

  
Stiles sucked in a breath, lifting his head off the pillow. Derek felt his cock twitch and Stiles' head dropped back down, a long breathy moan leaving his lips as he came undone, dull nails digging into Derek's arm.

  
Derek smirked, looking down at Stiles who laid limply in the bed, cum streaked over his chest.

  
"You know, normal teenagers try dating first," Stiles hummed, reaching down to grab a shirt from the floor. Derek grinned, eyes wide as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the exposed side of Stiles's neck.

  
"I bet you wait until after dinner to eat your dessert, too," Derek hummed. Stiles barked out a laugh, wiping the cum from his chest before wadding the shirt and tossing it back on the ground.

  
Stiles had barely got his boxers up when Derek climbed out of bed. It was Stiles' turn to grab the teen by the shirt, pulling him back. Derek landed on the bed with an "oof", Stiles wasting no time in rolling over, one knee pressed between Derek's legs and his hands on either side of Derek's head.

  
Derek's eyes widened, breath hitching in his throat.

  
"You're not getting away that easy," he smirked, leaning in to catch Derek's lower lip between his teeth.

  
Derek was much louder than Stiles was.


	20. Chapter 20

Present day

  
Three more bodies sacrificed. Warriors; all three men, and all three in some branch of the military. Stiles had felt them all -or the power they gave the nemeton. Lydia had also felt them, felt them die.

  
Stiles was actually beginning to have a hard time controlling his abilities now.

  
Before, the power was so sparse it took a lot for Stiles to manage a basic glamouring spell. But now it was like he was reaching his limit on power intake, and without an outlet, it overflowed and spilled out of him.

  
Telekinesis came easy to him, as well as teleportation and shape shifting -something that had been such a struggle to do most of his life.

  
And he realized, with the power he had -even though he got it under horrible circumstances- could be used to help the small werewolf pack fight against the druid and the alpha pack.

  
The pack had continuously caused problems for Stiles and the rest of them; though Stiles had yet to run into them himself, Scott and Derek had plenty of run ins.

  
So while Derek and Scott and his friends were out finding a way to stop Deucalion, Stiles stayed in the loft and began to practice.

  
He practiced so often and for so long that by the time Derek came home he was exhausted. But as the days wore on, Stiles got better at it.

  
And then there was an accident. Scott's mother was called into the hospital. A ten car pile up, and everyone was being sent to Beacon Hills.

  
And then Scott sent a text, saying the ER attending was missing.

  
Derek had just opened it with a frown when Stiles got hit with a wave of power. It knocked him to his knees and he let out a groan.

  
Derek had rushed to him, pulled him up and checked him over.

  
"I'm okay," he said, brushing Derek's worried hands away. "It just kind of knocked the wind out of me."

  
Derek had texted Scott back, telling him Healers was next on the list and to keep an eye out.

  
Scott stayed at the hospital.

  
Stiles was settling into the couch, a book on ancient druid practice on the small coffee table. He had to find another way to catch this darach, and since Derek was against Stiles' previous method, he had to resort to research.

  
Derek sat a cup of coffee beside Stiles, dropping a pill down beside the book. Stiles looked up, raising an eyebrow.

  
"You should know adderall and coffee don't mix well with me."

  
"Do they cancel each other out or something?" Derek asked. Stiles shook his head, picking up the little pill and setting it on his tongue. He grabbed the coffee.

  
"No, I just get a little high strung," Stiles smirked, taking a sip of the coffee. He pulled a face as he swallowed, coughing.

  
"Its straight," he gagged, standing up. "You sure have a weird-"

  
Stiles was hit with a second wave of power, knocking the wind out of him. He dropped the mug, the ceramic shattering and coffee spilling. He hit his knees with a painful crack, one hand catching him before he face planted, and the other gripping his chest.

  
"Stiles?" Derek shot to his feet. Stiles pinched his eyes shut, gasping uselessly to catch his breath. Derek dropped down in front of him, hands pulling him up to sit back on his knees.

  
Stiles gasped, hand shakily gripping Derek's shirt sleeve as the older man held Stiles up.

  
"Hey, breathe, Stiles, take a breath," Derek ordered, panic lining his voice.

  
Stiles sucked in a painful breath in, his chest expanding and lifting him up a bit before he groaned.

  
Derek pulled Stiles in close, Stiles taking in another painful breath. It felt like the power was crushing his lungs.

  
When it didn't feel like each breath he took would pop his lungs, Stiles leaned back, hand dropping from his chest. It rested shakily on Derek's other arm, gripping the fabric.

  
"Its getting worse," Derek said. Stiles coughed, running a hand through his hair.

  
"I'm just not used to feeling-" Stiles stuttered. "To feeling that much."

  
"Does the darach react the same way?" Derek asked, standing to his feet. He pulled Stiles up onto shaky legs. Stiles shook his head with a sigh.

  
"No, she's not as intune as I am, remember?" He breathed. "To her it's just a rush, like a gust of wind."

  
"How do you know the darach is a she?" Derek asked, frowning at Stiles. Stiles in turn frowned back, shaking his head.

  
"I don't," he said shaking his head.

  
"You said she's not as intune, not they."

  
Stiles blinked. "I don't know," he said after a moment. "It just came out."

  
"Is it a she?" Derek asked again. "Could you feel if the darach was male or female?"

  
Stiles' frown deepened as he thought it over.

  
"The ritual the other night," Stiles said slowly. "It connected us for a brief moment."

  
"So we're looking for a girl," Derek said. Stiles gave a small shrug. It made sense, if they had been connected that Stiles would be able to feel if the darach was male or female.

  
"She's young," Stiles said after a moment. "Your age."

  
"Stiles, why don't you sit down," Derek said, placing both hands on Stiles' narrow shoulders. Stiles let Derek push Stiles back onto the couch before pulling out his phone.

  
Stiles assumed he was texting the group what Stiles had discovered. Stiles leaned back against the sofa, taking a deep breath.

  
Once the text was sent, Derek walked over to the couch, sitting down and facing Stiles. Stiles lifted his head just a bit, catching the worried look crossing his features.

  
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. Stiles gave a small nod.

  
"Just tired now," he said softly. "Two in one night."

  
"We gotta find her," Derek said. "She's moving faster, which means something big is coming."

  
Stiles only nodded, head falling back. He closed his eyes.

  
"Are you sure you're okay?" Derek asked again. "You fell pretty hard."

  
Stiles' knees throbbed, and his chest still ached, but he looked up at Derek with a small smile.

  
"I promise I'm okay," he said, placing a hand on Derek's knee.

  
He closed his eyes again, just needing to rest. Derek shifted, and Stiles blinked his eyes open.

  
Derek leaned in and pressed his lips to Stiles', hands curling around his face.

  
Stiles' froze, but quickly recovered. His hands lifted falling to his ribs. Derek tilted his head, deepening the kiss and Stiles felt a whimper fall from his mouth, the noise being swallowed by Derek.

When the older pulled away, Stiles' mouth followed, their lips smacking as they seperated.

  
"Don't scare me like that," Derek said, frowning doesn't Stiles. Stikes gave a small smile, leaning forward to rest his head on Derek's shoulder.

  
"I'll try not to," he said, barely above a whisper. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, leaning back until Stiles was laying on top of him. Stiles held onto Derek tightly as sleep pulled him under, the quick beating of Derek's heart beats lulling him to sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

Scott picked Stiles up for school the following morning. He rode his motorcycle, since the day was nice.

  
"You ever ride one?" Scott asked, handing the spare helmet to Stiles.

  
"No," Stiles said, putting the helmet on and sliding onto the back behind Scott. He easily hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Scott's jeans.

  
"Just hold on and lean when I lean," Scott instructed, turning forward and revving the engine. Stiles nodded, lifting his feet off the ground.

  
The two reached the school just as Issac and Lydia pulled up. Stiles got off the motorcycle, pulling the helmet off and handing it to Scott.

  
"Derek told me you got hurt last night," Lydia said softly when Stiles neared. Stiles dug his hands into his pockets.

  
"Not really," he said with a shrug. "Its just a lot of power to get all at once."

  
"What does it feel like?" She asked, the two of them heading for the school. Scott and Issac stayed behind to wait for Allison.

  
"You ever been to the beach?" Stiles asked, Lydia nodding. "It feels like when you're standing in the water and a wave pounds into you, only instead of pushing around you it goes through you."

  
"But it hurts you," Lydia said. Stiles nodded.

  
"A little. It works the same for me as it does for you, a bit."

  
Lydia frowned, looking up at him unquestioningly. Stiles gave a small smile.

  
"When you sense death, it doesnt just feel like you need to scream to clear your head," he said. "You get a throbbing in your bones, right? Like your heads about to explode?"

  
"How do you know?" Lydia asked in surprise.

  
"I'm a druid," Stiles smirked, as if that explained it. Lydia seemed to buy it, so Stiles shook his head. "Back when I was younger -younger than I was 10 years ago-" Lydia let out a huff of laughter. "I was maybe ten, I met a banshee."

  
"I havent yet," Lydia said. The two reached Lydia's locker, which was on the other side of the hall from Stiles'. "I've never met another banshee, so I don't really know how all this works yet."

  
"I can help," Stiles suggested with a shrug. "I know a thing or two, and if you're going to be facing a darach and an alpha pack, you'll need to learn how to use your gifts."

  
Lydia pulled her books out, looking at Stiles who was leaning his shoulder into the locker beside her. "Youd do that?"

  
Stiles smiled, nodding. "Of course."

  
*-*

  
That day after school, Lydia took Stiles home. The two made their way up to the loft, where Derek was sitting reading a book.

  
"Hey, Der," Stiles greeted, shutting the door behind them and dropping his bag down on the floor beside the steps.

  
"Hey," Derek said, eyes glued to the pages.

  
"I'm gonna teach Lydia a few things," Stiles warned, leading Lydia towards the giant hole in the wall to their right.

  
"Don't break anything," Derek hummed. When the two were in the second room, Stiles turned to Lydia.

  
"Do you know how to protect yourself?" Stiles started, standing a couple feet in front of Lydia.

  
"A little," Lydia said with a grimace. "Allison showed me."

  
"Good," Stiles said with a nod. "That's one less thing to teach then."

  
Stiles shucked out of his flannel shirt, tossing it to the side. "Having a basic foundation to build onto is better than building the foundation," Stiles continued. "Since you know the basics of fighting -I'm assuming-" Lydia nodded. "It'll be easy to lay out the rest."

  
"What exactly are we going to be learning?" Lydia asked, looking a bit nervous.

  
"I'm going to show you how to use your voice as a weapon," he grinned.

  
*-*

  
"Being a banshee doesnt just mean you're voice is amplified, or that you just find the dead bodies," Stiles explained, now standing beside Lydia. The two were facing a make shift dummy made out of a wooden chair, a couple cushions from the couch and a sweater from Derek's closet.

  
"There's a way to give your voice direction," he shot his arm out, fingers pointing to the dummy. "To give it focus."

  
Derek had walked over, leaning against the rough edges of the hole in the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two.

  
"You're already focusing your scream," Stiles continued. Lydia looked at him in a surprised confusion, so Stiles elaborated. "You scream to clear your head, to get better sound quality; that's focusing your scream. We just have to get that focus to work outside of your head."

  
Lydia nodded in understanding. Stiles was really glad the banshee was smart; if it had been Derek or Scott or anyone else, Stiles would have a very hard time oversimplifying everything he said. It was nice to speak to someone on the same level intellectually.

  
"So how do we do this?" Lydia asked, already looking ready to start. Stiles grinned at her before nodding at the dummy.

  
"Scream at it," he said. "Try to focus where you want your voice to go, and push it that way."

  
Lydia nodded, shaking out her hands. "Plant your feet," Stiles said. Lydia watched as Stiles set one foot back, pointing out, and bent his knees, the other foot forward.

  
Lydia followed, bending her knees.

  
"Now, scream, and use your body to push it forward, where you want it to go."

  
Lydia nodded and took a breath. Stiles stood straight, quickly covering his ears. He noticed Derek do the same thing just as Lydia let out a scream.

  
Stiles watched with a wide smile as the air around her mouth rippled, her hands pushing out, as if guiding the energy outward.

  
He let out a whooping holler, jumping into the air with raised fists when the dummy fell over.

  
Lydia let out an excited shriek, turning to Stiles with wide eyes.

  
"You did it!" He yelped.

  
"I did it!" Lydia agreed, jumping a bit before lunging at Stiles. Stiles laughed, hugging her tightly. Lydia pulled away quickly, the grin never leaving her face.

  
"Did you see that?" She exclaimed to Derek, who was walking over to right the dummy.

  
"Yes, Lydia, I did," Derek said, grinning back. Stiles couldn't help but grin wider at that. Lydia looked to Derek for recognition; he was her alpha. He felt proud. Not only proud of Lydia for learning so quickly, but proud of Derek too.

  
His Derek was alpha -something he knew before, but hadn't quite registered- and he had his own pack. Scott, Issac, Lydia and Allison. Stiles' heart lept into his throat. Derek was an alpha, and he had a pack, and that pack trusted him, wanted his acceptance and respect.

  
"Okay, try again," Stiles said, looking down at Lydia, who had kicked off her high heels. She was much smaller than Stiles had thought.

  
Derek moved to stand beside Stiles, just behind him. His chest pressed into Stiles' shoulder, a hand brushing against the small of his back.

  
The two boys covered their ears as Lydia screamed.


	22. Chapter 22

Ten years ago

  
Talia was in meetings all morning, still discussing what happened with Paige. She was furious with Ennis, and had banished him from ever stepping foot on her land again, taking it a step further when she said "you, and your pack", before sending the threat home with a promise of death just as excruciating as the girl's.

  
After that it was talking with the other three packs she had forcibly removed after the incident.

  
The alpha female was just stepping out of Talia's office when Derek and Stiles reached the hallway. She smiled kindly at Stiles, bowed her head at Derek.

  
"Hello, Kali," Derek greeted with a bow of his own.

  
"How are you?" Kali asked, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder. "I heard the one who died was close with you."

  
Derek seemed to tense for a second before he nodded.

  
"We were friends," Derek said and Stiles couldnt help but hear the soft break in his voice at the word friends. Kali then turned to Stiles.

  
"I heard you are an emissary in training," she said. Stiles blinked before nodding as well. "I've heard great things of Alan Deaton, I'm sure he's teaching you well."

  
"He is," Stiles nodded.

  
"I'm surprised you aren't with him now," Kali said. "All the emissaries are in town catching up."

  
"Oh, well I had to talk with Tal- alpha Talia," he said, pointing towards the office. Kali nodded before she passed them.

  
"It was nice to meet you, druid," she smiled. Stiles smiled back in return before turning to Derek.

  
"Are you sure we need to tell her?" Derek asked, worry lines creasing his forehead.

  
"Tell me what?" Derek and Stiles both jumped, heads turning to see Talia looking at them both. Stiles blinked, heartbeat hammering in his throat.

  
Derek cleared his throat, making Talia lift a questioning brow. A small smirk pulled at her lips suddenly, and Stiles suddenly felt very naked. He shifted his feet.

  
"Uh, we needed to talk to you," Stiles managed to get out.

  
"Can it wait? I'm a bit busy," she said, looking between Derek and Stiles.

  
"Uh, mom, it's important," Derek said.

  
"So is this," Talia pressed softly before she looked behind the two teenagers. "Ah, Deucalion."

  
Stiles froze, his head whipping around to see Deucalion walking down the hall towards them.

  
"Sorry I'm late," he said, easily passing between the two boys without giving either the time of day. Stiles felt his palms turn clammy and heard a growl come from Derek.

  
Talia sent a look at Derek, who dropped his head before turning to Deucalion. "Its not a problem, come in."

  
And that was it. The door shut behind them, leaving Derek and Stiles standing in the hallway.

  
"I hate him," Derek seethed, eyes flashing blue. Stiles stepped forward and grabbed his hand, leading him from the hallway.

  
"We'll deal with him later," Stiles said, leading them to the front door. "I don't want to be here right now."

  
Once outside, Derek took the lead, fingers interlocking with Stiles'. The two walked through the woods hand in hand, weaving through trees and stepping over fallen sticks and clumps of foliage.

  
They reached Woodland pond in under twenty minutes, the two coming to a stop at the edge of the small clearing.

  
"This good?" Derek asked, looking up at Stiles. The water was a murky brown.

  
"Perfect," Stiles grinned. "We going swimming?"

  
Derek tugging Stiles to the edge of the lake in response, the two clumsily kicked off their shoes.

  
Stiles released Derek's hand to pull his shirt off, Derek easily shucking out of his pants.

  
When they were both in their boxers, Stiles ran in, hollering as he did.

  
Derek laughed before climbing onto a rock and jumping.

  
The water was cold, so Stiles dunked himself under the water to get the initial shock over with.

  
When he surfaced, Derek waded over, dark hair sticking to his forehead and eyelashes clumping together.

  
"Laura used to take me and Cora here during the summer, when we were little," Derek said, the two making their way into deeper water.

  
"You guys stopped coming?" Stiles asked, his mouth falling below the water. He kicked his legs, bringing his head further out of the water.

  
"Yeah," Derek said, floating on his back. "Laura is next in line for alpha, so she's got more responsibility now."

  
Stiles felt something tickle at his feet and wrapped his toes around it, pulling his leg up and grabbing it with his hand.

  
"Would you ever want to be alpha?" Stiles asked, lifting the seaweed -lakeweed?- out of the water. Derek was wading in the water now, arms out on either wide of him. He shrugged.

  
"I don't know," he said. Stiles toyed with the lakeweed, dragging it across the surface of the water. "Laura is the oldest, so it'll be passed to her, and if she has kids, then it'll pass to them."

  
"But do you want to be an alpha? Maybe not of the Hale pack, but a pack of your own?" Stiles pressed. The two were swimming lazily around each other, taking little dunks under the water or floating on their backs.

  
Again, Derek shrugged. "I guess I've thought about it," he said. "I dont know if I'd want to leave this pack though."

  
"I think you'd make a great alpha," Stiles said, Derek smiling a bit embarrassed in return. He ducked his head down with a flush to his cheeks.

  
"Thanks," he muttered. Stiles grinned before ducking under the water.

  
When he surfaced he was a couple yards away, heading for the rock Derek had jumped off of. Derek watched, wading in the water as Stiles got out of the lake, instantly beginning to shiver as he climbed the rock.

  
"You cold?" Derek asked, smirking at the way Stiles' shoulders shook, his hands covering the front of his boxers.

  
"No," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "I'm auditioning for human maraca."

  
Derek chuckled. "You're doing great."

  
"Shut up," Stiles said before jumping into the water, tucking his legs up to his chest.

  
He landed a foot from Derek, water splashing in his face. Stiles swam up to the surface, grinning widely as Derek sputtered, wiping his face.

  
"Jerk," Derek spat, splashing water at Stiles.

  
Stiles laughed, eyes pinched shut. It quickly turned into a splashing match, the two not giving the other a chance to breath.

  
"Okay! Okay!" Stiles shouted over the splashing, giving in. Derek stopped, the two out of breath. Derek swam up to Stiles, a mischievous look in his eyes. Stiles narrowed his eyes, swimming back.

  
"No, what are you doing?" Stiles frowned. Derek reached Stiles, grin still plastered on his face before grabbing Stiles by his shoulder. Stiles eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath just as Derek kicked himself up, pushing down on Stiles' shoulder and sending him under.

  
Stiles broke the surface to laughter, Derek already swimming away.

  
Stiles swam after him, reaching him easily and pushing him under.

  
"No-" Stiles barely had a chance to suck in a breath when Derek grabbed him, pulling the both under water.

  
When they surfaced, Stiles sputtered, water in his lungs. Derek laughed, arms wrapped around his waist. Stiles let his arms rest on Derek's shoulder, coughing up water before dropping his chin on Derek's shoulder.

  
"You suck," he managed to get out, making Derek chuckle again before pressing his mouth to Stiles' shoulder, tightening his hold on Stiles.

  
Stiles shivered against the werewolf, the cold water managing to chill his bones.

  
"Wanna go back?" Derek asked, his voice muffled against Stiles' skin.

  
"Mhmm," Stiles said, not moving. Derek began swimming them both to the edge of the lake, the two stepping out. Stiles shivered violently, arms wrapping around himself.

  
"How are you not cold?" Stiles stuttered out as Derek pulled his shirt on. He grinned over at Stiles.

  
"I'm a werewolf. Different core temperature," he said. Stiles frowned at him.

  
"Well, I'm turtling," he groaned. Derek let out a laugh, grabbing Stiles' shirt and walking over.

  
"I'm aware," he got out, pulling the shirt over Stiles' head. Stiles let out an embarrassed noise, cheeks red. Derek leaned in, kissing Stiles and pulling the shivering boy into his chest.


	23. Chapter 23

Present day

  
Stiles woke up to the sound of the loft door shutting. He shifted in the bed, mind not fully awake as he reached for his phone, blurry eyes catching the time displayed on his lock screen.

  
4:17 am.

  
Stiles dropped the phone and buried his face into the pillow, falling back asleep.

  
The next time he woke up, the sun was up, and the loft was silent. It was close to noon based on the sun's position in the floor to ceiling windows.

  
Stiles couldn't hear Derek. He sat up, rubbing his eyes before climbing out of bed. He was in shorts and a tshirt.

  
"Derek?" He called out, walking down the stairs with a frown. The loft was empty. Stiles looked in the bathroom, on the couches, in the room knocked open by the hole. No Derek.

  
He pulled the loft door open and peaked out. "Der?" No response.

  
Stiles huffed, shutting the door and heading to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, grabbing a sandwich he had made the night before before sitting down on the couch under the loft.

  
Derek had gotten a tv a couple days ago, nestling it at the end of the couch just under the stairs.

  
Stiles turned it on as he ate. He wondered were Derek had gone, thinking it weird how he hadn't said anything. Actually, now that Stiles thought about it, he never left without at least letting Stiles know.

  
Stiles set the plate on the coffee table and stood up, climbing the stairs to the bed and grabbing his phone.

  
Three missed calls from Scott, two voice mails from Issac and Lydia, no text from Derek.

  
Stiles felt something in the pit of his stomach expand, panic filling his lungs as he opened the first voice mail from Issac.

First message. 5:36 am  
"Hey, Stiles," he sounded like he had been crying, his voice wobbly. Stiles felt his heart constrict. "Please call me back- or- or anyone."

Next message. 5:41 am  
"Stiles, please call as soon as you can."

Stiles shakily clicked on Lydia's voice message, putting the phone to his ear, leg bouncing.

First message. 5:34 am  
"Call me back, something happened."

Next message. 5:50 am  
"Stiles-" Lydia's voice hitched. "Stiles please pick up."

Now Stiles was panicking. He quickly clicked on Scott's name, holding the phone to his ear as he stood, pacing and chewing at his nails.

  
It rang for so long, Stiles almost hung up.

  
"Stiles," Scott breathed. Stiles' breath came out in short pants.

  
"Wh-what happened?" He managed to get out, running a hand through his hair, already feeling tears brimming his eyes. "Where's Derek?"

  
The other end of the phone was silent, and Stiles felt a sob choke from his throat, hand quickly covering his mouth to hide the noise. He could be over reacting. Derek could be fine.

  
"Stiles," Scott's voice took on a tone of despair and guilt, and Stiles felt his legs go weak. "There was a fight."

  
Stiles had to hold onto the half wall wrapping around the loft to keep from falling. "He wasn't supposed to be there."

  
Stiles felt hot tears trailing down his cheeks but kept silent, save for the soft pathetic noises escaping his lips.

  
"I went to Deucalion to talk, and-and Derek showed up, and the alphas attacked us."

  
Stiles sucked in a breath. He pinched his eyes shut.

  
"Derek- he fell, and he wasn't moving-" even Scott seemed choked up. Stiles felt his heart crack under the pressure and he dropped to the floor with a broken sob, barely able to keep the phone to his ear.

  
"I couldn't hear his heartbeat."

  
Stiles let out a long cry, leaning forward. The phone dropped from his hand, the call ending. Stiles dug his forehead into the ground, hands gripping at his hair as he sobbed loudly, body shaking.  
Not again, not again.

  
He cried and shouted and sobbed on the floor, curled into himself. He couldn't control the panty breaths or shaking limbs. He lost all control as he sobbed.

  
*-*

  
Stiles had numbly got dressed and left the loft. His small bag was slung over his shoulder, and he sniffled, eyes burning with tears as he left the building in a haze.

  
It was late afternoon by the time Stiles had the strength to move. He was going to the nemeton. He walked with purpose to the beat up hummer sitting outside the building and tried the handle. It opened easily and Stiles slipped inside, slamming the door behind him before lifting the sun visor. The keys fell into his lap and he started it, the engine chugging to life with a startle.

  
Stiles put the vehicle in drive and pulled away from the curb. He pulled onto the road heading for the preserve and slammed on his breaks with a startled sob, the hummer stopping ard and flinging Stiles into the steering wheel.

  
Derek placed a hand on the hood of the car before falling. Stiles jumped out of the car, sobbing as he ran to the front and dropped to his knees in front of Derek.

  
"Derek, oh my God, Derek," he sobbed, grabbing Derek's face and looking him over. Derek was covered in blood, his shirt torn and crimson.

  
Stiles managed to get him to his feet, the two stumbling to thr car door. Derek leaned against the car as Stiles flung thr door open.

  
"Stay awake," Stiles said, grabbing Derek and pushing him to the car seat. He slammed the door and ran to the other side before putting the hummer in reverse and speeding back down the road, crying the whole way.

  
The two managed to make it to the loft before Derek's legs gave out on him. He grunted as he passed out, Stiles managing to slow his fall.

  
"Derek, wake up," Stiles shook him, kneeling over him. He wiped at his eyes and nose, tapping Derek's face with his hand. "Wake up!"

  
Stiles slapped him a little harder, the werewolf's eyes shooting open as he gasped. Stiles sobbed, head dropping to Derek's shoulder.

  
"You- you gotta stay awake," he gasped out, looking at Derek. He pulled Derek to his feet again, leading him to the bigger of the two couches.

  
Derek fell into the sofa with a growl, Stiles' hands still shaking as he knelt in front of him, looking at his torso.

  
"Oh my God," he cried. "Oh my God."

  
"Hoe bad is it?" Derek rasped out. Stiles was hyperventilating a bit at the sight.

  
"You're bleeding black blood," he managed to get out, hands reaching to touch him, but only hovering shakily over the shallow rise and fall of his mutilated chest.

  
Stiles' eyes widened when he realized Derek's eyes were closed again. "Der?"

  
*-*

  
Stiles had managed to get Derek's shirt off and had gotten a rag and a bowl of water. He cried and shook as he cleaned up the deep cuts that dug into his stomach and chest.

  
When Derek woke up again, he was a little more cognizant. He sat up and looked at his chest just as Stiles was coming back with clean water.

  
"You don't have any- any bandages," Stiles said, setting the bowl down on the floor. He was still crying, the shakiness in his limbs showing in his voice as he knelt down in front of Derek. "You're not healing."

  
Derek reached a hand up, holding Stiles by the back of his neck. "I'm okay," he said.

  
Stiles let out a broken noise, dropping his head. Even with the open wounds, Derek easily guided Stiles up onto his lap, hiding a wince. Stiles sat with his knees on either side of Derek's hips, arms winding gently around his shoulders. He was careful not to put any weight on him, or press into his front.

  
He was still shaking, still fighting to stop crying as Derek ran a hand down his back, head resting on Stiles' shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone still reading this book? It's been pretty quiet here, I'm curious if I should even keep posting the rest of the chapters..


	24. Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little warning, it gets a little hot and steamy.

"I'm okay," Derek said again, soothing Stiles' anxiety. Stiles pulled back just enough to look at Derek, hands moving to rest just below his ears.

  
"Scott-" he choked out. "Scott said you died. He couldn't- he couldn't hear your heartbeat."

  
Derek reached a hand up, using his thumb to brush the tears from Stiles' cheek. He looked like a mess, snotty and teary and red and congested. Derek looked far worse; pale and heavy lidded. He looked on the verge of death.

  
"I'm okay," Derek repeated. Stiles used the sleeves of his flannel to wipe at his eyes and nose, sucking in shaky breaths.

  
Derek pressed his lips to Stiles' chin, squeezing at Stiles' back as Stiles tried miserably to calm down. He had been crying non-stop all day.

  
"I thought-" Stiles sucking in another harsh breath, a new wave of tears already breaking the surface. "I thought I lost you again."

  
Derek's features softened even further than before, looking up at Stiles, who was struggling to control his emotions. He fisted the fabric of Stiles' shirt at the thought.

  
Stiles' head fell against Derek's, the two nose to nose. Stiles' breath was hitching and gasping, were as Derek's was slow and steady. He lifted his head, capturing Stiles' parted lips in a soft kiss.

  
Stiles kissed him back, holding his breath as Derek's lips worked against his own.

  
"I'm not going anywhere, Stiles," Derek said softly, breaking away. Stiles could only nod, his lower lip wobbling. "I'm sorry I scared you."

  
Stiles let out a sad excuse of a laugh, the wobbly grin quickly falling as he wiped at his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Derek again.

  
"Don- don't do it again," he breathed out. Derek nodded, pulling Stiles closer.

  
The two stayed like that, Stiles straddling Derek, the both of them holding each other. After a while, Derek pressed a kiss to the side of Stiles' neck, keeping his lips planted there, feeling the pulse of Stiles' heart slowing down. Stiles in turn buried his face in the crook of his neck, nose pressed firmly against his sternocleidomastoid muscle.

  
"Are you okay?" Derek asked, pulling his head back. Stiles leaned back to look at him too, fingers winding into the hair at the base of Derek's head.

  
"You're inches away from having your guts on the ground, and you're asking me if I'm okay?" Stiles asked, voice thick with residual emotion.

  
Derek glanced down at the deep gashes, already seeing the edges beginning to heal. He looked back up at Stiles and nodded. Stiles let out another pathetic laugh, eyes rimmed red.

  
"I'm fantastic," Stiles managed to get out. Derek smiled before leaning up and capturing Stiles' lips in his.

  
Stiles responded with alacrity, pushing closer and deepening the kiss. Derek's hands dipped under Stiles' shirt, palms warm against his skin as he ran them both up his sides.

  
Stiles lifted his arms when Derek reached his arm pits, collecting the shirt as he went. They broke the kiss long enough for Derek to pull the shirt off before Stiles was diving back into Derek's awaiting lips.

  
Derek's hands found their spot under his arms, fingers digging into the soft skin under his shoulder blades. Stiles let out a noise, and Derek responded by pulling Stiles' lower lip into his mouth, biting it softly before releasing it.

  
Stiles' eyes widened when Derek shifted, one hand gripping Stiles' ass the other one pressing into the cushion before laying Stiles on his back.

  
Stiles reached for Derek's neck, pulling him down again and connecting their lips.

  
Derek's free hand roamed across Stiles' chest, palm flat against the curve of soft muscle. He lowered his hand until it reached Stiles' jeans, popping the button alacritously.

  
The kiss was broken again as Derek leaned back, hooking long fingers into the waistband of Stiles' jeans and boxers.

  
Stiles lifted his hips, allowing Derek to pull them down deftly.

  
Stiles bent his knees, pulling his legs out of his clothes. Derek tossed them to the side before leaning back down, capturing Stiles' lips ardently. A soft whimper pulled from Stiles' throat as hands roamed his naked body.

  
Stiles fumbled for Derek's pants, grabbing his belt loops and pulling his hips down, needing the closeness. Derek complied, pressing his jean clad pelvis against Stiles. A soft moan rumbled from his chest, Derek moving his lips to Stiles' neck as he slowly grinded his hips against Stiles.

  
Derek let out a low growl as he nipped at the skin of Stiles' neck, licking and sucking there as Stiles mewled.

  
Stiles was careful not to injure the wolf on top of him as his hands pulled at his jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his hips.

  
Derek pulled them down further, boxers too. He kicked them off before diving back in to lap at Stiles' neck.

  
Derek dropped his hip, grinding against Stiles and making the boy groan softly, back arching off the couch. Derek quickly slid an arm under him, keeping him where he was as he bit and sucked on the skin of his chest. He dropped Stiles back down onto the couch as he reached the end of his sternum, biting at the soft skin. Stiles let out another mewl, hips rolling up for any kind of friction.

  
Derek leaned back, sitting on his heels and looking down at Stiles with hungry eyes. Stiles flushed, making Derek growl. He hooked his hands around the back of Stiles' knees, lifting him up and pulling him down the couch, planting his ass in Derek's lap.

  
Stiles whimpered. Derek held one leg, the other resting on his shoulder as he ducked down, kissing Stiles again.

  
When Derek leaned back, he brought his finger to his mouth. Stiles' eyes widened.

  
"Oh my God," he breathed. Derek pulled his finger out of his mouth with a soft pop before reaching down. Stiles gripped at the couch cushions, feeling the slick end of Derek's finger at his asshole.

  
Stiles' mouth fell open in a silent moan as Derek pushed his finger in, the feeling intrusive. He shifted, head falling back into the cushions.

  
Derek pulled his finger out, then pushed it back in slowly, allowing Stiles to feel each notch of his knuckles.

  
"Is this okay?" Derek asked softly. Stiles whimpered as Derek stilled, finger deep inside.

  
"Ye-yes."


	25. Part 2

Derek began moving again, picking up the pace. Stiles gasped softly, soft moans of pleasure rolling over him.

  
Derek curled his finger, pulling a hitching moan from Stiles, his body tensing and eyes shooting open wide. Derek smirked at his reaction, leaning down to catch his lips before doing it again.

  
Stiles let out a feeble breath, Derek swallowing it. A second finger pushed at his entrance and Stiles had to grip Derek's shoulder.

  
Derek used his other hand to hold him still as he pushed in. Stiles cried softly, feeling the stretch as the second finger entered him.

  
He breathed out, head falling back as he raised his chin. Derek leaned down, nipping at the exposed neck as he slowly began thrusting his fingers into Stiles.

  
"Der-" Stiles gasped out, hand fisting in Derek's hair, pulling roughly as Derek curled his fingers, exploring his walls.

  
He found that spot again, brushing against it and making Stiles mewl and gasp, breath hitching and shuttering.

  
Derek smirked against his neck as the sounds he made, and how Stiles wiggled under him.

  
Stiles' dick twitched, and he reached a hand down, ready to give it attention. Derek let out a low growl, grabbing Stiles' wrist and pushing it away. Stiles whined in response. "Not yet," Derek growled low.

  
Stiles' eyes widened when a third finger pushed into him, stretching him impossibly wide. He let out a soft sob, legs falling open. Derek shifted, pulling Stiles further up his lap, hiw own ignored dick brushing against Stiles.

  
"Please- Der-"

  
Stiles groaned, back arching, pushing into Derek's fingers. Derek pressed into the spot that had Stiles gasping and moaning.

  
And then he was pulling his fingers out completely and Stiles let out a noise. Derek pulled Stiles forward on thr couch, leaning down and kissing him hotly. Stiles wound his arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

  
Derek kept their lips locked as he reached down, hiking his legs up.

  
Stiles watched with baited breath as Derek spit in his hand, stroking his dick before he leaned down to kiss Stiles again.

  
Stiles let out a feeble shutter when he felt Derek press at his hole, the tip slick with pre-cum and saliva.

  
Derek pressed open mouthed kisses to Stiles' shoulder, biting just as he pushed in. Stiles let out a high pitched breathy whine, dull fingernails digging into the skin of Derek's shoulder blades.

  
He stilled, giving Stiles' neck attention while the boy adjusted. Stiles' head was foggy with need, his breaths coming out in pants as Derek's tongue lapped at the place he had bit, where his shoulder met his neck.

  
"M-move," Stiles breathed, head light. Derek let out a growl that vibrated from his chest before he pushed in further.

  
Stiles moaned, one leg hooking around the back of the couch. He pulled out slowly before thrusting in, grunting at the effort it took to not go faster and harder.

  
Stiles whimpered and whined with each thrust, lips parted. Derek kissed them, biting at his lower lip as he thrusted in and out, slowly building pressure in Stiles' belly.

  
Derek leaned back, angling himself to drive into the spot that made Stiles' eyes roll back. He groaned as he hit his mark, Stiles gasping out. Derek hit it again, and again.

  
Stiles moaned with every thrust, urging Derek to pick up his pace. Stiles was a mess under him, whining and moaning and gasping so perfectly under him as Derek paid attention to that one spot.

  
He felt Stiles clench around him, could smell how close he was to the edge and placed a hand on Stiles' belly, holding him still as he thrust harder. A louder gasp escaped Stiles' lips -still not loud, but louder than he had been- and Derek pushed in again. He hit that spot over and over, sending Stiles over the edge without touching his dick.

  
Stiles cried out as he came over his chest, body shaking and convulsing with each wave of pleasure and each thrust from Derek.

  
Derek continued to pound into him, feeling himself coming close. He leaned forward, biting down on the muscle of Stiles' shoulder with flat teeth. Stiles continued his little noises as Derek thrusted into him, before he came deep inside. A deep growl left his throat raw, his muscles constricting as he rode out his orgasm, eyes flashing red and fangs dropping. He released Stiles' shoulder before he could break skin.

  
Stiles gasped in his ear as Derek dropped onto him, still buried deep inside.

  
Derek lifted his head, looking down at Stiles langourous under him. He pressed lazy kisses to his lips, Stiles' eyes fluttering. He let out a soft content sigh against Derek's lips.

  
"That's one helluva'n apology," Stiles said lithely. Derek chuckled, kissing down his jaw before slowly pulling himself free from Stiles.

  
He let out a whimper, Derek quickly leaning down to kiss him again. Stiles reacted, arms slowly wrapping around Derek's shoulders, lifting his head to deepen the kiss.

  
Derek pulled back, looking Stiles over hotly before kissing him again.

  
"Let's get cleaned up," he said softly. Stiles blushed before nodding. Derek got up first, reaching down to pull Stiles to his feet. The two made their way to the bathroom, Stiles sticky with sweat and cum.

  
Derek turned on the shower, letting it warm up before guiding Stiles into the tub. Derek stepped in after, the two standing under the stream of water.

  
Stiles let Derek take care of him; using the soapy loofah to wipe at his pale skin, taking special care of the smaller of the two. He cleaned him from his shoulders to his feet before washing his hair, all the while peppering kisses to Stiles' exposed wet skin.

  
When he was finished, Stiles returned the favor, careful of the still healing cuts on his chest and stomach. They looked much better, but Stiles didn't want to risk hurting him.

  
"You got a tattoo," Stiles blinked, shock lacing his voice when Derek had turned around. The triskele sat right between his shoulder blades. Stiles traced it with his fingers.

  
Derek glanced over his shoulder, giving Stiles a small nod.

  
"I got it a year after the fire," he said. It was the same symbol as the talisman the Hales had used on younger werewolves. Stiles had seen it on Derek's desk back before the fire.

  
"I like it," he hummed. Derek turned back around, his own fingers finding the tattoo under Stiles' left arm, permanently branding the five-fold knot into the skin over his ribs.

  
When they were both cleaned, Derek wrapped Stiles in a towel, rubbing his arms and holding him close. Stiles leaned into his chest, head placed on his shoulder.

  
When the two were dry, Derek lead Stiles to the loft stairs. It was dark, and Stiles' eyes burned with exhaustion.

  
Derek put on a pair of boxers and a tshirt before walking to Stiles and kneeling in front of him.

  
Stiles was sitting on the edge of the bed, towel still wrapped around his middle.

  
"Stand up," Derek ordered softly. Stiles did as he was told, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder while he stepped into the boxers. Derek tugged at the towel, letting it fall to the floor before pulling the boxers up to his hips.

  
He placed a soft open mouthed kiss to the fabric over Stiles' hip, pulling a soft noise from the boy before Derek stood, pulling the blankets back for Stiles.

  
When he was inside, Derek crawled to the other side, sliding under the blankets before wrapping an arm around Stiles, pulling him into his chest and breathing in his scent.

  
Stiles was already almost asleep and he hummed as Derek pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.


	26. Chapter 26

Ten years ago

  
"I have to go pick up Laura from a friends house," Derek sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Stiles was at the small desk, feet resting against the bookshelf. "I should be back before seven. Will you wait to talk to my mom until I get back?"

  
Stiles gave a small smile, nodding. "Yeah."

  
Derek seemed to relax and he stood up, walking over to where Stiles lounged and stepped over Stiles' outstretched legs.

  
Stiles planted his feet on the ground, leaning forward as Derek straddled the older teen. He hugged Stiles tightly, nose pressed to his shoulder. Stiles hugged him back, pressing a kiss to his shirt clad chest.

  
"What's this for?" He asked, looking up at Derek.

  
"I'm just really going to miss you," Derek breathed, face crestfallen. Stiles ran a hand up his back, fingers tracing the curve of his spine.

  
"We'll write, and I'll call you," Stiles promised. "I'm not gonna fall off the face of the planet."

  
"But it wont be the same," Derek said, shaking his head. "I can't hold you or smell you over the phone."

  
Stiles let out a little laugh, kissing Derek's chin. "It won't be as hard as it seems," Stiles said softly, hands roaming up and down Derek's arms. "You'll go back to school in the fall, and you'll make new friends. And I'll be somewhere far away, with another pack or on my own, and it'll be alright."

  
"I don't want that," Derek growled sadly, grabbing Stiles' hand and twiddling with his fingers. "I want you to stay. And if you can't I want to go with you."

  
Stiles smiled sadly up at him, reaching a hand up to grip Derek's chin, angling his head down and pressing a chaste kiss to his plump lips.

  
"Life doesnt work like that," he reminded softly. "We don't always get what we want."

  
Derek signed heavily, resting his forehead against Stiles'.

  
"I know."

  
The two sat like that for a minute before Stiles patted his hips. "Go on, Laura isn't going to be very happy if you make her wait."

  
Derek reluctantly climbed off of Stiles' lap, and headed for the door. When he left, Stiles deflated, sagging in his chair and running a hand through his hair.

  
He would give anything to stay, to be with Derek; but he couldn't. If he stayed, it put the pack in danger, and if he let Derek come with him, he'd be a wolf without a pack; an omega. He couldn't put Derek through that; living on the run from hunters and people after Stiles.

  
Here, at the Hale pack, he was safe. He had a territory that was protected by one of the biggest packs in California, he never had to worry about hunters or death. With Stiles, that's all he would worry about.

  
Stiles sighed, heading down stairs. It was close to dinner time, and although he was in no mood for socializing or putting up a front, he was hungry, and he wanted to be with the pack one last time before he told Talia.

  
So he went to the large dining room where all the Hale pack were already seated and talking. The younger children were in the living room, at their own table. Talia and her husband sat at the head of the table, and Stiles moved to sit by them. Talia smiled at Stiles, a look in her eyes that unnerved him more than he already was.

  
"Where's Derek?" Talia asked, looking at Stiles.

  
"He went to pick up Laura. He should be back soon though," Stiles said, clearing his throat.

  
Stiles ate the food in silence, only speaking when someone spoke to him. After dinner was finished, Stiles made his way to his room again.

  
He shut the door behind him, and dropped into his bed while the pack talked. Dinners were when the whole pack gathered for fellowship. Packmates who lived in town would spend a few hours after dinner connecting with their other pack mates. It helped to strengthen their bonds, and Talia made it a rule to have dinners as a pack as often as possible.

  
Stiles listened to the sounds of laughter and conversation filter up from the floor below him, his eyes fluttering closed.

  
*-*

  
Stiles woke up sweating and choking. He jolted up from bed, eyes opening. Smoke filled the room, the sickening sound of crackling wood and sparking fire filled his ears as smoke filled his lungs.

  
"Derek?" He called out. He dropped to the floor, grabbing a tshirt from under the bed and wrapping it around his nose and mouth. He crawled quickly to Derek's bed, feeling blindly for the werewolf before crawling to the door. He couched, eyes burning with the smoke.

  
Once out into the hallway, he got to his feet, holding the shirt to his face. Stiles made his way down the hall, opening doors and shouting for anyone. He made it to the last room with no one inside and then reached the bathroom. He flung the door open and heard sobbing.

  
He reached out blindly before grabbing a handful of shirt. He pulled the kid close to his side, dropping the shirt from his mouth and putting it over the little girl's. "Here, hold this."

  
He then picked her up and headed for the stairs. Fire licked at the walls and danced across the ceiling as Stiles carried the girl down the stairs, running to the front door as he coughed and choked.

  
He set the girl down before pulling the handle. The door didn't budge. Stiles pulled again, letting out a shout as he pulled.

  
The little girl let out a scream when the ceiling above them cracked, hot embers dropping onto the two. Stiles grabbed the girl and ran for the back of the house. There was a cellar door down in the basement. Stiles could hear others from the pack screaming and coughing in the rooms around him. Stiles pushed the girl towards the stairs before running through the smoke. The fire burned at his skin, singed the hairs on his arm.

  
"Derek!" He called out, choking on the smoke. "Derek where are you?"


	27. Chapter 27

Stiles woke up to Derek stretching, a low rumble leaving his throat. Stiles rolled over, eyes fluttering open to look at him.

  
"Morning," he greeted, voice raspy with sleep. Derek collected him into his arms, pulling Stiles into his chest as he groaned.

  
"Good morning," he said, voice deep and gravelly. Stiles wrapped an arm around Derek, burying his face into his chest and breathing in the smell of soap and him.

  
The two stayed like that for another hour, peppering kisses and slowly running their fingers over bare skin.

  
Derek was content to stay in bed the whole day when a jolt went through Stiles, a painful gasp leaving his lips.

  
Derek sat up, looking him over hurriedly. "What? What happened?" He gushed, pushing the blanket down to look over his body for any injuries.

  
"Another sacrifice," Stiles said softly. Derek sagged, pulling Stiles up into his arms. "I'm okay, Der."

  
"I know," Derek said grumpily, burying his face into Stiles' neck.

  
The phone rang on the bedside table and Stiles had to fight Derek's strong arms to reach for it. He grabbed it just as Derek pulled him back into his chest. He answered with a soft "hello?"

  
"Stiles, is Derek there?" It was Issac.

  
"Yeah, he's listening," Stiles said, holding the phone to his ear.

  
"Okay, I just got a call from Lydia, and I wanted to call and make sure-"

  
"Yeah, I felt it too," Stiles interrupted.

  
"That leaves philosophers and guardians left," Issac said. Stiles could hear the nerves in his voice. "What happens when the darach sacrifices them all?"

  
Stiles sighed, Derek tightening his hold around his waist.

  
"Each sacrifice adds to her power," he said. "With virgins, shes able to seduce people coerce them into following her," he said.

  
"Warriors is enhanced strength. Sacrificing healers gives her the ability to heal like you do, and heal others. If she sacrifices philosophers she'll gain strategic insight and intellect. Sacrificing guardians would give her protection," Stiles finished.

  
"So she's already got the ability to seduce people, shes strong and can heal," Issac listed, sighing heavily on the phone.

  
"We'll catch her, Issac," Stiles said, voice steady.

  
There was silence on the other end before Issac spoke again, sounding unsure.

  
"You can feel things deeper than she can, rifht?" He asked.

  
"Yeah," Stiles said, not seeing where this was going. "I'm more connected."

  
"So, if you're feeling the power every time she sacrifices someone, wouldn't that mean you're stronger than her?"

  
Stiles blinked, furrowing his eyebrows. He hadn't thought about it. "Does it work like that?"

  
"I- yeah, I assume so," Stiles stammered, sitting up straighter in Derek's hold. "With most druids it's like a leaky faucet -a little bit of power at a time. Even with her sacrificing for her power, it's not potent because she's a modern druid."

  
"And you're not, so is that more like a running faucet?" Issac asked. Stiles looked up at Derek, a pounding in his chest. They could actually beat her. He could fight her.

  
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Its like a tsunami wave."

  
*-*

  
Stiles got Derek to drive out to the preserve. Issac had called Scott and Allison, and picked up Lydia. They were all going to meet at the nemeton.

  
Stiles couldn't sit still in his seat as Derek drove. If they took out the darach, they could have a fair chance at fighting against the alpha pack, or at least getting them to leave Derek and his pack alone.

  
Derek pulled to a stop where the dirt road ended and Stiles jumped out. Isaac's jeep pulled in next with Lydia, and a couple minutes later, Allison and Scott arrived on Scott's bike.

  
Allison was decked out in black leather, a crossbow strapped to her back. Stiles knew she carried other weapons on her. Scott, Issac and Lydia came as they were, having abilities to fight with.

  
"So what's the plan?" Scott asked. They all looked ready to do whatever Stiles said, stances at the ready.

  
"We're going to find the darach," he said. "And once she's dead, we're going after the alpha pack."

  
*-*

  
The group reached the nemeton, Derek stopping at the clearing. The others stopped as well as Stiles continued.

  
"Everyone has to stay quiet," Derek said, just loud enough for the teenagers to hear.

  
Stiles kept his clothes and shoes on as he walked to the nemeton. It was one thing to strip naked in front of Derek, and something completely different to strip down in front of Scott, Issac, Allison and Lydia.

  
He dropped the bag onto the nemeton as he climbed onto the flat top. He sat cross legged and pulled out the candles and map.

  
The teenagers watched on with tense shoulders and baited breaths. Derek was scowling. He hated this idea.

  
Stiles spoke those familiar words as he laid out the map and lit the candles, rushing the ritual a bit.

  
He brought the knife to his palm, the blade pressing into the skin just next to the scar from ten years ago. His other hand was still sore. He pulled the blade across his skin, blood dripping onto the map.

  
Derek watched as Stiles opened his eyes, the iris and pupil white. Stiles climbed off the nemeton and began walking, blood dripping down his fingers.

  
"Follow but don't touch," Derek said gruffly. The teenagers all nodded, walking a few feet behind Stiles. Derek walked along side him, careful to give some distance but wanting to be able to pull him out of the trance if he needed to.

  
The walk through the woods brought them to a place Derek hadn't thought about in years. It was an abandoned saw mill; Talia would meet with other alphas here when they had disputes between packs.

  
Derek grabbed Stiles by the arm, pulling him back before he could step out of the safety of the treeline.

  
Stiles blinked, eyes turning brown again. He looked up at Derek before looking at the saw mill.

  
"She's in there?" Lydia asked, coming to stand beside Stiles. Derek was already wrapping a bandage around Stiles' hand to stop the bleeding. Both his hands were wrapped now.

  
"Not just her," Scott said, frowning. "There's four other heartbeats in there."

  
"The alpha pack," Derek grunted, turning to the group of teens. "This time, we need a plan."


	28. Chapter 28

10 years ago

He moved from one room to the next, stumbling into pack mates running with suit covered faces. Some of them already had burns, and some even laid still on the ground.

  
Stiles felt panic grip his chest as he choked and coughed.

  
He blindly reached the stairs to the basement, stumbling down them and running into another pack mate.

  
"Stiles." Stiles followed the voice, grabbing Talia by the arms. "Where's Derek?" She asked, eyes wild. Stiles' heart leapt into his throat.

  
"He- he isn't here?"

  
Talia pulled Stiles through the crowd to one of the bared windows.

  
"Its mountain ash," she said, coughing as the smoke slowly filled the basement. "We can't break through it."

  
Stiles' eyes widened. It was a planned attack. Someone trapped the pack inside and set the house on fire.

  
Talia kept calm as she crouched down in front of Stiles.

  
"You're the only one who can get out, Stiles," Talia urged. "You have to get out and open the doors."

  
"I-I don't know how," Stiles stuttered, panic freezing his mind. Talia grabbed his shoulder, giving him a stern pained look.

  
"You have to try, Stiles," she urged. "My pack will die if you don't try."

  
Stiles' breath hitched in his throat. "I don't know if I can change back," he said shakily.

  
Peter suddenly dropped down beside the two, hair standing up in odd angles and soot coating his face.

  
"I can't find the kids," he breathed out.

  
"Cora isn't here, she's spending the night at Stacy's," Talia said, shaking her head.

  
"Derek and Laura shouldve been back by seven," Stiles managed to get out. A strained noise came from Talia and she looked over the part of her pack stuck in the basement. She then turned to Stiles, a worried look in her eyes matching the determination.

  
"Please, Stiles. You have to save us."

  
Stiles nodded. If Derek was in the house somewhere, Sriles had to find him, but he knew the rest of the pack needed help, and as much as he wanted to drop it and just find Derek, he knew saving the pack was more important.

  
Stiles closed his eyes, focusing the power inside him and pushing it towards the surface. There wasn't much left, but he pulled as much as possible from his core, pushing it to the surface of his skin.

He let out a painful shout, body shaking with effort.

  
When he felt the shift, he opened his eyes. Talia and Peter quickly stood up, Talia reaching down and grabbing Stiles around the middle. She lifted him effortlessly up into her arms and rushed to the window.

  
The fox barely fit through the bars as Talia pushed him through, and he quickly turned to face her again.

  
"You have to break open the doors, and break the seal," she said. Stiles gave a nod of his fox head and scurried off towards the cellar doors.

  
The first thing he did was scratch at the mountain ash, breaking the seal. And then he tried to shift.

  
A whine fell from his mouth and tried again. The screams from the pack inside filled the air outside, the sound of wood burning and fire cracking filled Stiles' ears as he searched deep inside his core.

The power was still there, but it felt just out of reach.

  
Stiles let out a terrified shriek as the roof collapsed, and he ran for the front door.

  
There was a padlock. Stiles jumped up, scratching at the door, yelping and screaming.

  
Shift back! He screamed, sobbing as he scratched hopelessly at the door.

  
Shift back! Wake up!

  
He ran to the cellar door, another padlock. He scratched at it, panic gripping st his chest. He screamed, trying to shift back again and again as he ran to the back door, hopeless to do anything.

  
The screams grew louder, the fire hotter. Stiles screamed, sobbing and running frantically. He was too small to break a window, too weak to break thr lock or shift back.

  
Shift back, please shift back! He begged. The fire grew too hot and Stiles bad to back up to keep from burning. Another crack inside and part of the second floor fell onto the first.

  
Stiles sobbed, screaming inside his head the fox frantic and shrieking.

  
And then the screams stopped and Stiles felt his heart break.

  
Derek! He screamed, tears and smoke burning his eyes.

  
The sound of sirens broke through the roar of the fire and Stiles ran, tears and smoke blurring his vision as he headed for the sirens.

  
There were two fire trucks speeding towards the house, three police officers and a couple ambulances close behind.

  
He watched -sobs choking him- as the firemen tried to stop the flames from spreading to the trees around the property, but it was too late for the pack inside.

  
Stiles felt his heart lurch and he couldn't breathe.

  
He failed. He killed the pack who had done nothing but give him a place to stay. He killed Talia, and Derek. That thought had Stiles sobbing loudly, a scream ripping through his throat.

  
He turned and ran. He ran until the heat from the fire disappeared. And right into Deucalion.

  
He dropped to the ground, burying himself in the brush. He was standing beside a woman he recognized. A hunter. Kate Argent. She was the daughter of the infamous Gerard Argent; the wolf killer.  
"Is it done?" She asked, looking up at Deucalion.

  
"There's no heartbeats coming from the house," Deucalion nodded. It made Stiles choke. He felt bile in his throat, the sobs he held down suffocating him.

  
"Good," Kate said with a smirk. "I hated that pack."

Deucalion growled low, catching Kate off guard. She raised a challenging eyebrow at the werewolf alpha.

  
"I hope you know this isn't going to be a thing," Deucalion growled out lowly. "I won't help you slaughter my kind. I needed someone dead, the Hale pack was collateral damage."

  
"Maybe for you," Kate said with a roll of her eyes. "We both got what we wanted, the deal is done."

  
"Not quite," Deucalion snapped, grabbing at Kate's arm when she turned to leave. "I want a meeting with your father."

  
Stiles held his breath, a fresh wave of tears rolling hotly down his cheeks.

  
"I've already told you he's willing to meet on friendly ground."

  
Deucalion let her go and she took a step back, still eyeing the alpha. "Who were you after, anyway?" She asked.

  
"A druid."


	29. Chapter 29

Stiles was able to mask the group's smell and heart beats as they made their way towards the saw mill. Allison broke away from the group, heading up to the roof, where she could effectively fire her crossbow.

  
Scott and Issac went around back with Derek. Stiles and Lydia would go through the front door.

  
Lydia stood beside Stiles with her hands fisted at her side, looking nervous.

  
"Remember what I taught you," Stiles said softly. "You're voice is a powerful weapon."

  
Lydia nodded, and the two walked towards the heavy industrial door.

  
Stiles didn't know what he expected to see when they walked in, but what he did see wasn't it.

  
Two werewolves stormed up, already shifted and ready to fight the intruders.

  
Lydia took a step back, but Stiles kept his ground, lifting a hand up and forcing the two back with a grunt.

  
The two fell back and Stiles took a step forward, pushing them into the ground.

  
He looked at the other three in the room, two he remembered, the other he recognized from school. Deucalion and Kali, and a teacher.

  
"Mieczysław Stilinski," Deucalion smirked, stepping forward. Stiles noticed the cain and the strange look to his eyes and he blinked. He was blind.

  
"How long has it been?"

  
Stiles gritted his teeth, sneering at him as he pressed further into the twin wolves. They growled. Kali shot forward, but before Stiles could lift his other hand, Deucalion lifted the cain, stopping her.

  
"Who's this pretty thing you have with you?" Deucalion asked. Stiles glanced over at Lydia, who was stepped to his side, a hand gripping at his flannel.

  
"Back up," Stiles snapped.

  
"How about you let my boys go, and we can talk," Deucalion said, nodding to the two wolves on the ground.

  
"You must think I'm really stupid," Stiles bit out, not releasing his hold on the two boys.

  
"Actually, I do," Deucalion growled low, dropping his calm and collected front. Kali snapped at her teeth beside him. The woman behind them both watched on silently.

  
"You see, you're out numbered and overpowered, and you're only back up is a girl going through an identity crisis."

  
Lydia let go of his flannel and took a threatening step forward. "You're pretty confident you can beat us?"

  
Deucalion chuckled, leaning back against the dusty table. Stiles sneered at him. "Two average teenagers against four alphas and a darach?" He looked blindly around the room before looking in Stiles' direction.

  
"What was your plan?" Deucalion asked. "You were going to take us all on by yourself? Kill me for killing the Hale pack?"

  
"No, we agreed I'd be the one to kill you for murdering the Hale pack," Derek growled out from behind the darach.

  
Kali jumped before Stiles could blink, slashing a bare foot towards Derek's chest. Scott and Issac rushed forward from the shadows, both shifted and howling. Stiles let go of the two alphas on the floor, bumping a shoulder into Lydia. Lydia screamed, sending her voice towards Deucalion just as Stiles shouted out his force, slamming it into the darach.

  
The twins got up, slamming into Issac and Scott.

  
Allison shot into the mill with explosive arrows, aiming for the feet of the alpha pack.

  
Stiles ran for the darach, slamming into her and toppling into the ground. He held her down, using his force to help as he straddled her.

  
"You're strong for a druid in training," she bit out, eyes white as she pulled at her own power. Stiles did the same, slamming her further into the ground before she could fight back.

  
"I'm not a druid in training," he growled out. He hit her again with a wave of power, forcing the breath out of her.

  
The darach let out a scream, shoving Stiles off her. He landed with a thud in the dirt, wincing and rolling over to his side.

  
The darach got to her feet, eyes white as she stepped up to Stiles, pounding power into him again and again. Stiles groaned, gasping in pain as she threw punch after punch of power at him.

  
An arrow shot through the air by the darach's head, the metal container beside her head exploding.

  
Stiles used the distraction to teleport from his spot on the floor, appearing behind the darach and sending a wave of power into her back, sending her sprawling into the dirt covered floor.

  
"You're not as strong as I am," Stiles gritted out. "Even if you had finished the sacrifices."

  
"You overestimate yourself," the darach snarled, turning onto her back. She got to her feet just as another arrow shot into the wall beside her, shattering the glass above them. Stiles covered his eyes, turning away as the glass fell around them.

  
Stiles couldn't pay attention to the people around him, he knew it he looked away for a second the darach would get the upper hand, but he heard the snarls and growling and Lydia screaming.

  
"You have a lot of potential," the darach spoke, standing a few feet from Stiles. "I could see you becoming one of the strongest druids in the world."

  
Stiles let out a snort. He was one of the strongest druids in the world.

  
"You could join me-"

  
"No thanks," Stiles snapped, pulling at his power and shooting out a force. The darach skidded back a few feet, the power effectively shutting her up.


	30. Chapter 30

The darach lifted her arms on either side of her, wind whipping her hair and eyes turning white. Stiles' eyes widened as the shards of glass shook on the ground before lifting into the air.

She smirked at Stiles, arms lifting with the glass. "Your funeral."

  
Stiles lifted his own hand just as the glass flew towards him. He turned his arm, sending the glass towards Kali, who was running towards Issac and one of the twins.

  
The female werewolf froze as the glass embedded itself into her body before she fell.

  
A high pitched scream of anger ripped from the darach's throat and she charged at Stiles, pushing him into the metal container so hard he got dizzy.

  
She continued to scream at him, crushing him under the weight of her power. Stiles gasped for breath, the force pressing into his chest.

  
The sound of a gunshot rang through the saw mill and the darach jerked forward. Stiles pushed out, shoving her away and ducking.

  
Allison stalked towards the darach, firing the Desert Eagle into the darach, who had turned to face her. Stiles was sucking in lungfuls of air as Allison emptied the clip into the darach.

  
"Allison, run!" Stiles yelled, seeing the darach pulling at the power within. Stiles scrambled to his feet, running forward, but it was too late; the darach sent a wave of power at Allison, who flew across the room and landed painfully against the wall. Stiles kept running, dropping his shoulder and ramming into the small of her back. He continued to run, slamming her face first into the metal container.

A hand grabbed Stiles' shirt and yanked him back. Stiles grunted, falling into Lydia, who held him up.

  
The darach turned and screamed. Stiles and Lydia stood shoulder to shoulder, Lydia screaming loud and Stiles pushing out a wave of energy. The powers all met in the middle, a loud crack like lightning filled the air and the three were knocked from their feet.

  
Stiles landed a few feet back, the breath knocked out of him painfully. He laid there for a moment, sucking in lungfuls of hair before he managed to roll over onto his front.

  
His vision was blurry as he looked over at the darach. She had been knocked into a wood pillar, the splintering wood littering thr floor around her.

  
He stumbled over to her, dropping to his knees. She was still breathing. Stiles set his jaw, placing his hands over her chest and pressing down.

  
He used his force to add to the pressure, watching as her eyes flung open with the lack of air. He pressed harder, letting out a shout of anger as he pushed down painfully hard.

  
He heard and felt her ribs crack, a painful noise leaving her mouth. Stiles pressed harder, pinching his eyes shut.

  
When he opened them again, the darach laid below him, eyes back to their dark brown color. They stared lifelessly up at Stiles. He dropped back, pulling his hands off her like he had been electrocuted.

He thought he was going to be sick until he heard a gasping sob behind him.

  
He spun around, seeing Lydia on the ground. He scrambled to his feet, running to her and skidding to his ass by her side. She had landed against a piece of broken metal, her side soaked in thick blood.

  
"Hold on," he gushed, placing his hands against her side. "Its okay, it's not bad."

  
He looked up from Lydia just as the twin werewolves retreated into the woods. Kali was still lying lifeless on the floor, right beside the darach. Scott and Derek were standing breathlessly over Deucalion, who was gasping, back pressed to the table leg. He looked to where Issac was, holding Allison to hid chest.

  
He turned back to Lydia, looking over her pain and panicked features.

  
"Hold on, Lydia, I'm going to heal you," he promised. Lydia only nodded stiffly, eyes filling with tears.

  
Stiles pulled at the power in his core, clenching his teeth and shaking with an effort. He felt his hands stiffen at Lydia's side, a painful groan leaving his lips. He pushed the power into Lydia's side, feeling the cuts on his palms open and bleed. He pushed himself to his limits and let out a pain filled wail, head falling forward.

  
Arms grabbed Stiles by the shoulders, pulling him back before he fell forward. The arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding him against a chest. His head fell back onto the shoulder as his eyes fluttered, body sagging in exhaustion.

  
Stiles opened his eyes, breathing labored. Lydia sat up and looked down at her side, skin smooth.

  
"How'd you do that?" Lydia asked breathlessly. Stiles looked back, head still pressed into a shoulder to see Derek, looking him over worriedly. He looked back down at Lydia, his body relaxing even further into Derek's chest.

  
"I used the power from the healers," he said. "The darach didn't use it all."

  
"Derek," Scott called. The three looked over to where Scott was, still standing over Deucalion. He was looking across the room. Stiles' heart dropped. Issac was on the floor holding a limp Allison in his arms. He pushed himself up, Derek helping him stand on shaky legs. The three made their way to where Allison laid. Stiles didn't need super hearing to know Allison's heart wasnt beating. Issac was crying, and by how he was gripping at her bare arm, Stiles knew he was trying to pull her pain. Lydia let out a strangled cry, hand covering her mouth.

  
Stiles pulled himself from Derek's hold, wrapping Lydia in his arms tightly.

  
"Can you heal her?" Issac asked, looking up at Stiles with wide teary eyes. "Can- Can you fix it?"

  
Stiles dropped his gaze, mutely shaking his head. A sob ripped from Issac's throat and he pulled Allison closer to his chest.

  
Derek left the group, standing by Deucalion so Scott could come over. He knelt down beside Issac, tears streaming down his cheeks as he placed a hand on Issac's shaking shoulder.

  
Lydia turned her face into Stiles' chest, arms tightening around him. Stiles looked back, seeing Derek hauling Deucalion to his feet and half dragging him from the saw mill. Stiles knew Derek was going to kill him, he didn't need to be there to watch, so he turned back to the small pack in front of him, all crying.

  
When Derek returned, his fingers were coated in blood, and he didn't say a word. He stood beside Stiles, looking down at his pack with mournful eyes, but no tears.

  
It took a while for Issac to let Allison go. Derek gave him all the time he needed, but when Issac looked up at him with his red rimmed eyes, Derek bent down and scooped her up into his arms.

  
Lydia stepped out of Stiles' hold and hugged Issac, the werewolf crying into her bloody shirt.

  
Stiles walked behind Derek, head hung low. The rest of them followed, sniffling.

  
Scott caught up with him, eyes still bloodshot. Stiles placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly and looking up at him. Scott let out a wobbly smile.

  
"I'm sorry I couldn't save her," Stiles said with sincerety. Issac easily heard him, a soft cry leaving his lips.

  
"You saved Lydia," Scott managed, glancing back. Lydia was walking beside Issac, the last of the small and pitiful cortège.

  
Lydia's shirt was still ripped and soaked in her own blood, but the skin underneath was untouched.

  
The walk back to the vehicles was done in silence. Stiles looked at Derek, could see Allison's head hanging from his arm, hair swinging with each step Derek took.

  
When they reached the cars, Derek headed for the jeep.

  
"Someone has to tell her dad," Scott said, as if the thought had just occurred to him.

  
"I-I will," Issac croaked out, stepping forward. He reached the door of the jeep, pulling it open and helping get Allison inside.

  
"I'll come too," Lydia said, voice plaintive. Issac only nodded, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

  
Lydia climbed into the back seat through the drivers seat, Issac silently jumping in after and starting the jeep.

  
Stiles watched as they pulled out and drove towards town.

  
"Do you want company?" Derek asked, turning to Scott, who had grabbed his helmet off the bike. Stiles stepped closer, chewing his lower lip.

  
"I think I'm just going to go home," Scott said softly. Derek nodded, stepping up and pulling the teenager into a tight hug.

  
When Scott left, it was only Stiles and Derek left. Derek turned to him, letting out a long drawn out sigh. "Let's go home."


	31. Chapter 31

The pack wasn't the same after that. Losing Allison cut a hole in all of their hearts -especially Issac's.

  
It was weeks before he emerged from his home and actually talked to one of the pack mates.

  
Lydia had come by almost every day just to sit with Stiles and tell him stories about her. How they met freshman year, bonded over silly things like shopping and researching the supernatural.

  
Most stories ended in Lydia crying, but Stiles didn't mind. He hadn't been close with the pack, hadn't gotten to know Allison.

  
As the days passed, the sadness seemed not so bad. Scott picked him up for school every day with a smile that slowly began to reach his eyes with time, and Issac slowly began to pull himself from his shell.

  
The small pack celebrated their victory and mourned their loss.

  
The twin werewolves had disappeared, their scent slowly disappearing with them. The nemeton's power weakened without the sacrifices from the darach.

  
Stiles still went out there a couple times a week. He no longer used blood sacrifices to feed the nemeton's life force. He gave it gifts of plants and water and candles. He laid on the tree and prayed instead. It kept him calm and connected to the world and its power around him.

  
Derek had moved back into his bed. The two woke up together every morning. They made love to each other often, worshiped each other's bodies under the sheets.

  
And no one was trying to kill them -for now.

  
Stiles woke up to the sun, its golden rays warming his face. He stretched and yawned, a strong arm snaking around his torso and pulling him into a strong chest.

  
Stiles smiled, turning and wrapping his arms around Derek's neck, the werewolf leaning in close and nipping at the soft skin of his neck.

  
Their legs tangled together under the covers, naked bodies pressed to one another.

  
When they managed to pull themselves apart, Stiles climbed out of bed and got dressed.

  
Derek watched, laying on his back. "You're beautiful," he muttered softly as Stiles pulled his shirt over his head, covering the pale skin Derek had peppered with love bites.

  
Stiles grinned, walking back to the bed and crawling up Derek's body, falling into his chest and kissing him.

  
Derek easily locked Stiles in his arms, rolling the two over so Derek was above him, kissing and biting at his jaw. Stiles laid amenable beneath him.

  
Derek pressed his lips to the tip of Stiles' nose, his sharp jaw and over his neck. He kissed at Stiles' collar bones, hands already pulling his shirt up to expose his mole speckled skin. He kissed Stiles' chest, planting open mouthed kisses to his nipples before continuing his journey lower.

  
Stiles was squirming by the time Derek's mouth reached the band of his sweat pants, a soft whimper leaving his parted lips.

  
Derek pulled the pants low, kissing Stiles' hip bone, then the dip of his pelvis. He yanked the sweats down past his ass, breathing hotly against his hardening cock. Stiles let out a strained noise, back arching and hands fisting the fabric of the sheets.

  
Derek made sure Stiles mewled and whimpered and gasped as he worshipped the pale boy beneath him, pulling him to the edge and pushing him off. Stiles writhed in the most sinuous way, back arching, throat exposed and mouth parted as he whined.

  
And when he was finished, he pulled Stiles back into bed, biting at the muscle of Stiles' shoulder.

  
Stiles hummed, his body littered with the bites and bruises from Derek's mouth. He turned in the wolf's hold, facing him and kissing him long and soft.

  
When he pulled back, he ran a hand through Derek's dark hair, fingers stopping at the nape of his neck and twisting the short hairs there.

  
"I love you," Stiles said, so softly that Derek wouldve missed it if he didn't have enhanced hearing.

  
The words caused Derek to still in his gentle caresses, his breath hitching. Stiles looked into his green eyes with no pretenses or diffidence.

  
"What?" He breathed, hand curling around Stiles' back, heart racing. His eyes searched Stiles' face. A soft smile pulled at the younger's lips and he moved in closer, lips ghosting over Derek's.

  
"I said I love you," he said with all the confidence in the world. Derek closed the small gap between their lips, kissing him roughly and pulling him impossibly close, a low rumble vibrating from his chest. Stiles let out a laugh, wrapping his arms around Derek's neck and tightening his hold. Derek buried his face into Stiles' neck, growling and kissing him.

  
"You love me?" He growled out, grin pressed against Stiles' jugular. Stiles nodded, not able to suppress his shit-eating grin.

  
"Yeah," he managed. Derek pulled out from his neck, looking Stiles deep in his eyes, his own green ones alight with a happiness he couldn't contain.

  
He kissed Stiles again, rolling them so Derek was back on top of Stiles, chest to chest. Stiles wound his arms around Derek, dull nails scratching at Derek's shoulder blades.

  
"I love you too," Derek spoke into Stiles' mouth, biting his lower lip. "God, I love you so much."

  
Stiles kissed roughly, pouring everything they had into each other, hands trailing heatedly across each other's bodies. Stiles broke away, taking a breath when the phone vibrated against the night table.

  
Derek let out a growl when Stiles leaned over, snatching it and looking at the text from Scott.

  
"The pack is coming over," he hummed, dropping the phone into the covers and peering up at Derek.

  
"All of them?" Derek asked. Stiles knew what he was really asking. Was Issac coming too?

  
"Yeah, Scott said he's bringing a movie."

  
Derek nodded, a look of relief crossing his usually stern features.

  
*-*

  
The two had showered and cleaned up just as Lydia, Scott and Issac arrived, Issac holding two DVDs in his hand, and Lydia carrying in two deep dish pizzas.

  
"The only tv we have is tucked behind the stairs, so we're gonna have to cuddle," Stiles said, nodding for the little 25 inch tv.

  
"I love cuddling," Scott grinned, already making his way to the couch.

  
"That's because you're a puppy," Lydia said with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

  
The group ended up squished onto the couch, Derek with his back against the arm rest. Stiles had fit himself between his legs, one arm draped around his bent knee.

  
Lydia sat in front of Stiles, leaning against Derek's other leg. Stiles' legs were draped over her lap. Scott and Issac sat closest to the tv, Issac putting in one of the movies before leaning back, his head laying on Stiles' legs, his own legs draped over the arm rest with Scott trapped underneath him.

  
Derek dipped his hand under Stiles' shirt, letting his warm palm rest against Stiles' chest, right above his heart. He pressed a kiss to the skin behind Stiles' ear as Issac lifted up his socked foot to press the play button.

  
The movie was soon left forgotten when Scott mentioned how different Derek was since Stiles showed up. Stiles had grinned proudly, much to Derek's disdain. He had a reputation now of being grouchy and unapproachable. Knowing that the pack of teenagers had picked up on his softness towards Stiles made him uncomfortable.

  
"What was he like when you two met?" Lydia asked with a curious look to her green eyes. Derek tightened his hold around Stiles, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut. Stiles grinned, raising a challenging eyebrow up at him before turning back to the other three teenagers. Scott and Issac were paying attention now.

  
"He was short," Stiles said. "And he followed me around like a lost puppy."

  
Derek jabbed a finger into his side, causing him to yelp.  
"You followed me around," Derek corrected. Lydia grinned at the two. Stiles rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively.

  
"You were obsessed," Stiles grinned.

  
"You couldn't sleep without your pillow," Derek growled.

  
"You had a comfort pillow?" Scott giggled.

  
Derek sat back in silence, watching his pack laugh and talk. He smiled, pressing his lips into Stiles' hair as he broke into a fit of laughter at something Lydia said. His heart hadn't felt this whole in a long time. His pack was small and young and inexperienced, but it was his, and it was something Derek never thought he'd have again. And he knew it would grow. But for now, he was content with his group of misfits; a banshee, a true alpha in training, a beta, and a druid.


End file.
